


By My Side

by Risahn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Banter, Buddhist dream sequences, Buddhist folklore, Confessions, Dating, Embarrassment, Excessive Thirst, Friends to Lovers, I did a thing!, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Makeup, Mutual Pining, Phichit is relentless, Post-Canon, Seung-gil is a secret fan, Seungchuchu Week 2017, Warning: pink boxers, acquaintance to friend, adorable people being adorable, dating history conversations, reference to future cross-dressing options, reference to past cross-dressing, seungchuchuweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-04 00:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10978779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risahn/pseuds/Risahn
Summary: Phichit Chulanont enjoyed being friendly and outgoing, while Party Pooper Seung-gil (TM pending) seemed content to condescendingly frown his way through life. Thankfully, an embarrassing encounter shows Phichit that there's more to this stoic man than meets the eye, and that maybe befriending him wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. And who knows, maybe it won't stop at just friendship.





	1. Day 1: How They Met

**Author's Note:**

> This is my (late) submission for the first day of Seungchuchu week! It takes place in the year following canon at the next round of the Grand Prix (since it's all I really know about figure skating).
> 
> This work is unbetaed, and as such all mistakes are my own.
> 
> I hope you guys like it! Leave me comments/kudos if you want, it would mean the world to me <3

Seung-gil and Phichit had known of each other for nearly a year before they finally officially met. It was a less than ideal meeting, with Phichit attempting to be friendly and Seung-gil aloofly walking away. It had bothered Phichit for a variety of reasons, the most complex of them being: _how dare he._

See, Phichit didn’t hold the social media throne for nothing; he was not only amazing at taking selfies, but also enjoyed keeping up with his competitors. Naturally, someone who barely went on social media would stand out to Phichit simply because he was a mystery. Sometimes the secretive, elusive Seung-gil was tagged in other people’s pictures, but it was rare, which was objectively sad. He had a grand total of seven pictures posted to Instagram, all of which were taken at official events. But even in person, Seung-gil seemed to be pretty private.

He was also just pretty, period. God, he was gorgeous. It was so unfair of him to only have seven damn pictures.

Contrastingly, Phichit considered himself to be an outgoing guy. He believed that people were interesting, and generally worth talking to. They respond positively to a smile and an easygoing conversation nine times out of ten, and it was far from a chore for him to provide that. He loved making people happy, and being friendly was the number one way to do it!

Because of these ideals, Phichit found himself unassumingly walking up to the hotel elevators during Seung-gil's second Rostelcom Cup. He stopped next to the lone stoic figure waiting for the elevator, and he foolishly thought that he was properly prepared. After all, Seung-gil was just another person. Sure, every waking moment he looked as if he’s smelling something bad and that something is you, but a little smile and friendly conversation could easily change that!

“So… You must be Seung-gil! I don’t think we’ve officially met yet, my name’s Phichit Chulanont!” He waved, smiling brightly. Seung-gil glanced from his face to his extended hand, but it didn’t throw off his game quite yet. “I’m a Taurus, and I love long walks on the beach – or around my ice rink, which is all I have time for these days, am I right? Both are fun, anyway. My favorite movie is–”

With one side-eye, Phichit froze midsentence. Seung-gil didn’t need to say anything to be utterly _terrifying_. He could probably freeze over a thawed rink with that look. What an unfortunate resting bitch face.

But no worries! Party Pooper Seung-gil didn’t want to chat? Not a problem! Given enough time, Phichit could break him. _Break_. _Him_.

“…It’s The King and The Skater. You might not remember, but both my short program and free skate last year were inspired by–”

“No.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

The elevator door opened, and Seung-gil stepped inside. With one look over his shoulder, he froze Phichit in place.

“No, I don’t remember.”

The doors wound up closing on Phichit’s dumbstruck, slack-jawed face. It was humiliating.

“ _How. Dare. He_.”

“I’m sure you’re overexaggerating. He’s not that scary, just a bit shy.”

“Yuuri, he’s _terrifying_! I was genuinely worried for my life, don’t you get that?”

There was muttering on the other end of the phone, and Phichit pouted to himself. When he called Yuuri, he wanted to talk to _Yuuri_.

He and Victor were perfect for each other; they were amazing and adorable and #couplegoals. Phichit could only hope to have that kind of connection with another person someday. 99% of the time Phichit was overjoyed that they fell in love and that they were so close.

Right now was that other 1% of the time, with their closeness getting in the way of Phichit getting _answers_.

“ _Yuuri_ , come on! It’s not like I want to be his friend. I just don’t want to have to deal with awkwardly avoiding him at the competition tomorrow!”

“Hmm…”

“Come _on._ ”

“I don’t think you’re going to like this, but…”

“But what? What is it?”

“…I think you guys would make good friends?”

“What?”

“ _What?”_

“See, even Victor thinks you’re crazy!”

“Oh, you can hear him? I’m sorry, he’s just–”

“ _Hi Phichit!_ ”

“Hi Victor.”

He heard Yuuri huff over the phone. “He said he wanted to help, but now I’m just thinking he wanted to be nosy.”

“ _What, me? Never!_ ”

Phichit sighed. This could get entertaining, but he wanted to stay on track for now. He had an early start tomorrow for his short program. “So why do you think we’d make good friends?”

“It’s kind of… I’m not sure, it’s just a feeling I have.”

“…Wow, please Yuuri, be _more_ vague.”

“ _I know what you mean though, darling! Maybe phrase it like…_ ”

Yuuri sighed, “I don’t know, it’s just–!”

“ _You guys would complement each other!_ ”

“Yeah! Yeah, that’s it!”

Phichit frowned. “Complement?”

“Yeah, you know, opposites attract and all that.”

“ _You could get a smile on his face, I’m sure!”_

“If anyone can, it’s you. You’re so friendly, you could get anyone to loosen up.”

“ _Yuuri, why aren’t you that nice to_ me?”

“Shut up, I’m plenty nice to you.”

“ _So cold!”_

Despite his bad mood, Phichit found a smile creeping up on him. His friends’ banter was just too cute to resist.

“Hmm…” He turned thoughtful. “I wonder… what would Seung-gil even look like with a smile on his face?”

The line fell silent.

“… _Terrifying_.”

 

\---------

 

The second, marginally more successful meeting between Phichit and Seung-gil happened the following morning. It was the day of the short programs, and Phichit walked into the rink confident and prepared. His performance was going to be flawless, and he was going to look _amazing_ out there. 

Phichit was his own hype man most of the time, and he was damn good at it.

After signing them in and escorting Phichit onto the ice, Ciaociao watched his practice with a critical eye. After practicing basic spins and steps for a while, he managed to land a particularly difficult quad. Phichit turned rink-side to get the Ciaociao double-thumbs-up of approval. Instead, all he saw was the man’s bushy pony tail, as he was turned _completely around_ talking with another coach.

Phichit was well on his way to pouting when he heard it.

“Wrong, again!”

The harsh English order caught his attention, and Phichit looked past the other skaters and milling bystanders to see Seung-gil icily turned away from his coach. The woman was speaking in fast Korean, obviously upset about something, but Seung-gil skated away from her. He looked as if he was tuning her out, and if Phichit wasn’t so stunned he’d probably applaud the overt act of rebellion.

Seung-gil glanced his way, and for a heart-stopping second Phichit was afraid he’d be attacked for staring, for having dared see Seung-gil getting scolded. But the man looked away just as quickly, and he went back to practicing a complex step sequence. The woman was still speaking quickly, even louder now, but Seung-gil was very obviously uninterested.

Seung-gil was known for his jumps, but rather than focusing on what he was already good at, he was working on refining his step sequence. Phichit watched the fast movements of his blades over the ice. They weren’t perfect, but perhaps his coach’s lecturing had something to do with that.

“Phichit, quit daydreaming!”

Crap, he’d been caught staring. “Sorry Ciaociao!” He grinned. “Just scoping out the competition.”

Ciaociao was not buying it. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that quad. It was great, but we can make it perfect!”

“Are you kidding me? You were literally turned _completely around_ , _how_ did you see it?”

“Intuition.”

“What does that even _mean_?”

Eventually morning warm-ups wound down, and the competition was underway. Going up against Leo and Guang Hong was fun, and the two newbies looked promising. Everyone performed their hearts out, but Phichit managed to nab first place for the day because he was _amazing_. Leo was just behind him in second place, and surprisingly one of the newbies was in third! Seung-gil came in fourth, which he was visibly upset about at the kiss-and-cry. 

With the stress of today gone and the stress of tomorrow still ahead, Phichit wandered behind the scenes a bit aimlessly. He wanted to put off going to the press briefing just a little longer, so he went in search of a distraction. He ended up in the hallways a little ways from the rink’s main operations, whistling to himself and generally just living his life innocently.

Phichit came upon some remote public restrooms. He walked up with the intent of using them just to kill time when the door to the girl’s room opened suddenly, a figure flying out and flailing around.

Pants around his thighs, shirt held against his groin, Seung-gil’s horrified face looked back at the door to the girl’s room. Cheeks pink, he looked around frantically and noticed Phichit standing there, staring at him for the second time that morning.

A moment suspended in time, they watched one another. It was silent this far away from the rink and media, and although the floors were carpeted Phichit was confident you’d be able to hear a pin drop. If it wasn’t for what he saw next, they probably would’ve stood there until the end of time, dying of both starvation and mortification.

But around his thighs, against the backdrop of black jumpsuit material and pale skin, a splash of bright pink stood out.

“Are those… pink?”

“What? No, I didn’t – they’re _not_ – you didn’t see–!”

Phichit burst out laughing, which only made Seung-gil even more red and flustered. His whole face was practically glowing, the blush spreading down his neck to disappear somewhere below his jacket. Through teary eyes, Phichit saw Seung-gil hastily tug up his brightly colored underwear and track pants. It was a shame, really.

He didn’t want the other skater to feel bad, but Phichit wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon. “So what, is the girl’s bathroom just cleaner or something? Do you read the little magazines? Wait, do they have those little magazines? Because if so, I might take a page out of your book and start –”

“I wasn’t being weird!”

The shouted claim just reignited Phichit’s laughter.

“I don’t want to – to hurt your feelings,” he struggled to get out. “But this whole situation is extremely weird.”

“I didn’t see – I was distracted! And I didn’t – I swear I’m not a pervert!”

The tears were back, and now Phichit was doubled over, leaning against the wall. “Stop, stop – you’re _killing me_!”

“No, I’m not! Stop laughing!”

Phichit was still wiping away tears when he turned back to Seung-gil, who – woah, who knew someone could look embarrassed, mortified, and livid at the same damn time. The sight nearly sent Phichit spiraling back into a laughing fit, but he summoned all his strength and reigned it in for the sake of this poor guy’s blood pressure.

Phichit put on a mock-frown, then stated gravely, “I’m sorry, I understand how serious this is.”

Seung-gil paused, caught off guard with his arms crossed defensively. “…Yes, it is serious.”

“You were very obviously looking to peep on unsuspecting females–”

“ _What?_ No, I told you I’m not–”

“And based on the fact that you were caught _with your pants down_ , I can only assume you were committing unsavory acts in response to the heightened thrill of–”

“There’s no one in there!”

“Maybe the situation alone was all you needed to get off–”

“ _Please, stop!_ ”

Phichit cut himself off, giggling at how uncomfortable Seung-gil was right now. The man was practically trembling with shame, and if he hadn’t snubbed Phichit so spectacularly yesterday, maybe he’d have shown him some mercy.

“So,” he trailed off, stepping closer while crossing his arms and drawing himself up to his fullest height (a measly 165 centimeters, but Seung-gil wasn’t much taller). “Explain yourself, pervert.”

Seung-gil tightened his arms, but obeyed. “I wasn’t – wasn’t paying attention, and accidentally went in the girl’s room. I went in a – a stall and started to – well, I saw a little trash can, and that made me realize where I was, so I left and now… here we are.”

“…I think that’s the most you’ve ever spoken at once in my presence.”

Seung-gil sighed. “Don’t be stupid.”

“ _Excuse_ me? Who just stumbled out of a girl’s bathroom because he wasn’t ‘paying attention’? Are you kidding me?”

Seung-gil’s mouth thinned out, staring intensely at the floor. “I’m… embarrassed.”

“You should be. That was pretty embarrassing.”

“…”

Phichit finally decided to take pity on the asshole.

“It’s not like I’m going to tell anybody, stop worrying. If you stay stiff like that, you’ll snap your spine.”

He looked up. “You… won’t?”

“Well, probably Yuuri – no, I’m _definitely_ telling Yuuri. But no one else. Why would I? God, do you really think so little of me?”

Seung-gil looked uncomfortable now. “No.”

Phichit smirked. “Do I look like the kind of asshole that would go around spreading this kind of thing?”

“…You look like the kind of asshole who’d laugh at someone’s else’s embarrassment for five straight minutes.”

He chuckled, which seemed to surprise Seung-gil. “Yeah, I guess you get me pretty well after all.”

Seung-gil was not amused, but his blush was back. It was kind of adorable, like an angry puppy.

“Oh come on, that was hilarious! You stumbled out of the _lady’s bathroom_ with your pants around your ankles–!”

“They were not – they were around m-my thighs!”

“Oh, _that’s_ the detail you think is going too far? Are you _kidding me_?”

Seung-gil scowled, looking down at his feet. “It’s – I’m sorry, it’s just… very embarrassing.”

Phichit smiled, far less sadistic this time. “It’s okay. Nerves?”

“No,” was the quick response. But after a few beats of silence, Seung-gil muttered, “Somewhat.”

“No worries, we all do weird things when we’re nervous about competition. In fact, my first competition, I put my costume on inside out. I left the locker room and everything, and it took Yuuri pointing it out for me to even notice.”

“…That’s embarrassing for you.”

“Wow, the amount of empathy happening right now is astounding.”

Seung-gil’s lips quirked, and for a moment Phichit thought it was a trick of the light. “I see what you’re trying to do. I… appreciate it.”

“Sure thing.” Silence fell once again, and every fiber of Phichit’s sociable being protested. “It’s nice to get some firsthand evidence that you’re an actual human being.”

Somehow, against all laws of physics, Seung-gil managed to stiffen even further. “What?”

“It’s just – you’re so serious, you know. Like, all the time. It’s kind of scary.”

“…I see.”

“So I’m just saying, it’s nice to see you with your pants around your ankles.”

“They weren’t–!” Seung-gil cut himself off all on his own this time. He tilted his head, furrowed his eyebrows, and sincerely asked, “Wait, is that a come on?”

Now it was Phichit’s turn to blush. “What? No, that – come on, no way!”

“It sounded like one,” Seung-gil sneered.

“Well it wasn’t!”

“It was weird, but not the worst one I’ve ever heard.”

“Don’t turn this around on me. _You’re_ the weirdo in this situation!”

Seung-gil scoffed, and _no_ , Phichit was not having this. No way was he letting Seung-gil turn this around on him.

Resolve solidified, Phichit ran his fingers through his hair and stepped gingerly forward, stopping within reaching distance of Seung-gil. The man was obviously uncomfortable, arms rigid at his sides and mouth set in a firm line, and the close proximity only made it worse. Seung-gil took a step back. Phichit smirked and took a step forward. Soon his back was against the wall, and he had nowhere to go as Phichit continued his assault on his personal space.

He leaned up on his toes, stared at Seung-gil’s lips – which, woah, surprisingly soft looking – and licked his own as obviously as possible. Seung-gil sucked in a breath and held it, and Phichit knew he’d easily won.

“When I make a come on–” he muttered, leaning in even closer, letting his eyelids drift down slightly, “–you’ll know.”

“…Oh,” he mumbled, cheeks flushing. He stared back at Phichit with wide eyes, his expression the human equivalent of a buffering screen.

Phichit was a little worried he’d broken his competition. Sure he’d thought about it yesterday, but perhaps going so far during a competition was a bad idea. Too bad for Seung-gil, the rest of Phichit’s conscience was watching a clip of yesterday’s interaction on a continuous loop.

“Besides,” he started. He leaned in to the side, lips faintly skimming Seung-gil’s (very pink, and very bitable) ear as he whispered, “I have standards.”

He wasn’t touching him, but he could practically feel the shiver that ran up Seung-gil’s spine. He heard him suck in a quiet breath, could sense his crossed arms tightening further against his chest.

With a wicked grin, Phichit lightly kissed him on the cheek. He took a massive, sudden step back, then clapped Seung-gil cheerily on the shoulder. “Anyway, good luck finding the right place to take a whiz!” With a grin, he left the way he came.

And if he swayed his hips a little bit more than usual – well, what did it really matter? If it meant seeing that dumbstruck, slack-jawed expression on Seung-gil’s face instead of his typical stoic aloofness, he’d start walking like this permanently.

Yes, the second time they met had been far more successful, and far more conductive to future friendly interactions, ones that would involve less sadistic torture and embarrassed yelling – and hopefully, more glimpses of Seung-gil’s surprisingly ridiculous underwear.


	2. Day 2: Selfies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late submission. I'll post day three in a bit!

“It was _amazing_ , I wish you could’ve seen his face!”

“Yeah, sounds interesting! But I don’t know, I don’t think it would’ve been quite the same.”

“Hmm, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Phichit was on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his hotel room after a long day of Free Programs. He’d done well, clawing his way to first with the residual confidence he’d gotten from yesterday’s exchange with Seung-gil – who earned third for himself. Phichit was relieved to know he didn’t throw off his competitor too much with the little stunt he’d pulled.

After a stressful performance, interviews with the press, and fielding Ciaociao’s glowing praise, Phichit was exhausted. But before he went out and celebrated, he simply _had_ to tell Yuuri about what’d happened. Yuuri had been unable to come see his performance live (“Practice keeps me so busy. I’m so sorry, I’m awful!”), but he’d called Phichit tonight to congratulate him on a job well-done.

Phichit stretched contentedly as he listened to Yuuri’s fumbling attempt to explain himself.

“I mean, I wasn’t there, obviously, and I don’t really know him that well, so maybe I’m being crazy and you know what, the more I’m listening to myself, the more I’m convinced that I’m just making assumptions, so don’t even listen–”

“Yuuri, I love you but you should just say whatever you mean.”

“…Honest?”

“…What?”

“He – it sounds like he was being a bit more… honest? No, genuine.”

Confused, Phichit frowned. “Genuine?”

“Yeah? I mean, you got an actual conversation out of him. So… you actually got some insight into his personality, right?”

“I guess, yeah. The word I’d used was ‘human’.”

Yuuri laughed under his breath. “I don’t think it’d would’ve been the same if he’d been… outnumbered.”

“Hmm, maybe you’re right.”

Phichit barely knew Seung-gil, and was only now learning that he wasn’t a completely cold and callous human being. Heck, teasing him had been pretty entertaining – and aside from all the huffing-and-puffing posturing, Seung-gil didn’t seem to hate him.

But while it may not have been the world’s worst interaction, it didn’t change the fact that they barely mattered to each other. Seung-gil was a blip on his radar, and nothing more. So why was he wasting his precious best-friend-chat-time talking about this guy? Why was he still thinking about their interaction, and why did it still make him smile?

“Enough about that party pooper. Tell me about St. Petersburg!”

Yuuri happily told him a story about getting lost trying to buy groceries. Phichit enjoyed it, laughing at how Yuuri’s phone battery died, and how every time he tried to fix the situation it made him even more lost. He sympathized when Victor made an appearance in the story, having gone out and searched for Yuuri himself after three hours of no contact. “So now I’m banned from going grocery shopping by myself for all eternity. Which, I mean, is just long enough to sound a tad dramatic, you know?”

“Aw, Victor _looooves_ you!” Phichit teased, grinning.

“Obviously? I mean, we’re married, so–”

“Your husband loves you, haha!”

“Shut up, don’t be weird!”

“You must be _soooo_ embarrassed!”

“ _Yuuri, I’m hooome!”_

“Victor, stop embarrassing me!”

“ _What?_ ”

Phichit cracked up as Yuuri played along, sputtering out something about Victor’s love embarrassing him in front of Phichit. Victor’s ensuing confusion just got Yuuri laughing too.

He hung up a few minutes later, what with Victor having his feelings hurt (“You wound me, my love!”) and wanting to go out for dinner. Yuuri had jumped at the chance to cook for him, and it was disgustingly adorable. Phichit smiled and giggled to himself as he bid them goodbye.

Call over with, he may as well start getting ready to go out with Leo and Guang Hong. He had plenty of time, so maybe he’d spend extra time on his hair. He messed around in the bathroom a bit, experimented with three different blushes and played with gelling his bangs into gravity-defying shapes.

He was exiting the bathroom, having finished properly styling his stylish bowl-cut into a “messy” look and perfecting his natural make-up look, when he heard a knock on his door.

He thought he’d agreed to meet them downstairs? Oh well, he wouldn’t complain about seeing his friends a few minutes sooner.

Phichit opened the door with a wide grin. “Couldn’t wait to see me, eh? I know I’m _magnetic_ , but this is just…”

He trailed off, noticing who was actually standing there.

“…ridiculous.”

Seung-gil gave him a once over, raising an eyebrow at his outfit and hair. “Got plans?”

“Um… sort of?” Why was he being weird? Where did all of his social skills suddenly disappear to?

Seung-gil frowned. “Oh.”

“I mean–!” Phichit held up his hands, futility attempting to stop Seung-gil’s thoughts from going to the wrong place. “I’m kind of wearing nice clothes, and yeah I spent like fifteen minutes on my hair, but that’s just because I wanted to look nice. I don’t _have_ to look nice. For my plans, that is.”

His frown disappeared, but he still looked far from happy – so, his normal self. “…Oh?”

“Yeah, my plans aren’t – I don’t have to look nice.”

“So… where are you going?”

Phichit frowned. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Seung-gil crossed his arms. “Are you embarrassed?”

“No.”

“Are they private in nature?”

“Nope.”

He rolled his eyes. “So? This conversation is unnecessarily long because you won’t just explain yourself.”

Phichit crossed his own arms now, acting out of knee-jerk rebellion rather than any actual offense. “Like I said, I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Seung-gil paused, eyes widening a fraction at that. Phichit was probably the only person to ever be this intentionally difficult toward him. It was a satisfying thought.

“…Sorry.”

Well, that was unexpected.

At the probably shocked look on Phichit’s face, Seung-gil went on. “I just wanted to… If you’re busy it’s fine. It can wait.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I came to… apologize for the other day,” Seung-gil said, staring down at his feet. “I overreacted due to discomfort, and I feel that I came off as rude, which was not my intention.”

“Oh…” This was uncharted territory for Phichit. Seung-gil was not meeting any of his expectations these days. “It’s alright, apology accepted.”

Seung-gil nodded, glancing at Phichit and quickly looking back at the hotel’s rather uninteresting carpet. Was he nervous? How often did Seung-gil Lee even apologize to people? Maybe he should be treasuring this moment a bit more.

“Do you want to get dinner?” Phichit exclaimed, pulling out his phone and texting rapidly in a group chat.

“…What?”

“Dinner,” he explained, rolling his eyes. “An evening meal. Some people call it supper, but I’ve never actually heard that word in a casual context.”

Seung-gil still looked confused, despite Phichit’s stellar explanation.

“Well? Dinner?”

“Yes,” Seung-gil said suddenly – which seemed to be the Seung-gil equivalent of shouting with excitement.

Phichit nodded, looking down at his phone. Leo was already downstairs, and he and Guang Hong were fine with their new edition.

“Perfect, let’s go.” Phichit smiled, stepping forward and tugging on Seung-gil’s jacket sleeve, pulling him along towards the elevator. Surprisingly, Seung-gil followed easily. When they arrived downstairs, Phichit waved at the familiar figures waiting at a couch in the lobby.

“Hey guys! Did you wait long?”

“Nah, just a minute or so,” Leo responded, standing up.

Guang Hong also got up, but he also came up to Phichit to gave him a quick hug. “Hey,” he muttered, smile bright and unfairly adorable.

Phichit grinned back. “So guys, I’m sure you know Seung-gil Lee. He was–” Was Seung-gil frowning at his friends? No, he always looked like that. “I ran into him upstairs. Hope it’s okay that I invited him along!”

Leo, ever the kind person, stepped forward to shake his hand. “I’m Leo, nice to officially meet you.” Guang Hong waved and hide halfway behind Phichit’s arm.

“Hello,” Seung-gil said, voice marginally warmer than his current expression. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

This would be an interesting evening, no doubt.

 

\--------------

 

Phichit was right, the evening was definitely interesting. Everything was interesting! Hell, anything could be if you were drunk enough, and it was easy to get drunk when you were out with your friends while simultaneously coping with the addition of a stone-cold robot.

Regardless of the outcome of today’s competition, it was a celebratory mood. Leo had come in second, and Guang Hong had managed not to come in last, so they were all content with their respective improvements. While Seung-gil had come in third, it was anyone’s guess how he felt about that.

Guang Hong was of age to drink here, and he compensated for his nerves (look at what you’ve done, Seung-gil!) by downing one specialty drink after another. Leo, the enabler, continued to order them on his behalf, sliding full glasses in front of Guang Hong without any words needing to be exchanged. Their shared wavelength was weird sometimes.

Phichit was stuck next to said robot in their booth. Seung-gil honestly wasn’t the worst person to talk to, but it was painful getting anything more than a sentence out of him at a time. Phichit was amazing, but he wasn’t a miracle worker. He needed _something_ to work with here if he was going to get to know this human statue.

Even worse, it was awkward having to turn to talk to Seung-gil when he couldn’t help but notice how closely they were sitting. Glancing up at Seung-gil’s stoic face, he couldn’t help but recall the embarrassed, flushed expression it had worn just the other day. And before that, his face had been so aloof and cold as he'd turned away from Phichit and dramatically elevator-ed away. And before _that_ , the guy's face had always just been vacant as he skated or answered reporters. His variety of expressions, the silly faces and teasing nature sitting just under the surface - Phichit want to dig down and see what else was down there.

But inevitably Phichit would think back to their only real interaction before today, and doing so eventually led to thoughts surrounding a certain pair of bright pink boxer briefs.

All of this together made Phichit drink, and he couldn’t see an end in sight. Was it hot in here? It was definitely hot in here.

Phichit was side-eyeing the way Seung-gil was sipping at his own beer (like he was an actual person, it was crazy) when the topic of Yuuri eventually came up. With three out of four of them being mutual friends with him, it was bound to happen at some point.

“Have you heard from him at all recently?” Leo asked through the handful of fries in his mouth. The bastard was nowhere near as drunk as Guang Hong and Phichit.

“Not – not really,” Guang Hong hiccuped, eyes seemingly held open by sheer force of will alone. “He likes my posts on – on Instagram though. That’s… nice.”

“I talked to him tonight,” Phichit sighed, smiling fondly at the thought of his friend and Victor’s antics. “He’s amazing, you know?”

“Yeah!” Guang Hong piped in. “Yuuri is – he _is_ amazing!”

Leo nodded while Phichit enthusiastically agreed with Guang Hong’s agreement. “He _is_ , right? He’s smart and nice and thoughtful! We should call – we should tell him how amazing he is!”

“You seem to really like Yuuri.”

Phichit whipped his head around, staring up at Seung-gil with wide eyes. Oh no, did he think Phichit liked Yuuri in a gay kind of way? He didn’t want to give him the wrong impression!

“It’s okay, I’m gay in a different way!”

Their table fell silent, then Leo and Guang Hong burst out laughing. Phichit could feel his face heating up again, but he could blame it on the alcohol and not on the stupid, awful, mortifying thing he’d practically shouted in Seung-gil’s unnecessarily gorgeous face. 

He hid his face in his hands as he tried to explain himself. “I didn’t – I mean, I’m not–!" 

“I already know you guys are best friends,” Seung-gil said, explaining for him in an apparent show of mercy. “Plus he’s married to Victor Nikiforov, right?”

“Yeah, and they’re amazing together. It’s wooooonderful.”

Someone was hitting the table (probably Leo, Guang Hong would never) as they laughed. Phichit would never recover from this shame, not in a million years.

“It would be like dating my brother,” he muttered into his hands. “Too gross.”

“I’m going to tell Yuuri you said he’s gross!”

“What? No – Leo! I didn’t say that, come on!”

“It’s going to make him cry, and you’re going to feel so bad.”

“Noooo, pleeeease!”

A sound to his side caught Phichit’s attention, and he peeked through his fingers to see Seung-gil chuckling to himself. He noticed Phichit looking and immediately froze.

Oh no, Seung-gil had such a cute laugh. It was awkward and sounded like it wasn’t used often. But it was honest, and somehow innocent? God, Phichit must be totally wasted if he was describing a laugh as _innocent_.

“Are you – are you laughing at me?”

Seung-gil nodded, smile growing tentatively. Phichit wanted to make him laugh again. He wanted to wrap himself in the sound, wanted to make it his ring tone. But in his drunken state, Phichit wasn’t firing on all cylinders. How could he get that sound back into his life?

“I didn’t realize how much I was talking, okay? I gush about my friends easily, okay?”

Seung-gil shook his head, trying to cut Phichit off. “It’s fine, you don’t have to–”

“But I _do_! I _do_ have to!” Phichit’s hands had fallen away from his face entirely at some point, and they were now clutching at Seung-gil’s arm. “I don’t want you to misunderstand!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well first I spent a long time on my hair, and then I kept talking about Yuuri! I don’t want – you can’t – you’re killing me!”

Thankfully he’d stumbled his way into doing something right, as Seung-gil was back to laughing (granted, at his expense). Phichit would get plastered and embarrass himself every day for the rest of his life if it meant he got to hear that awkward, heartwarming noise every time.

He’d been right, it was definitely hot in here. Surely it wasn’t just Phichit. Was Seung-gil hot right now?

Yes, yes he was.

Damn, he should’ve made that joke out loud.

They wound up leaving the bar minutes later, as Guang Hong was falling asleep and Phichit was growing progressively louder. The four of them paid and stepped out into the crisp night air. It barely sobered Phichit up, and he loudly complained about his thin jacket.

Leo was carrying Guang Hong on his back and the two of them were giggling, content in their own little world. Phichit pouted, looking to Seung-gil. The bastard was staring right back at him, not offering a piggyback of his own. Or a jacket. Whatever.

They started walking, as the hotel was only a few blocks away. In his drunken state, Phichit felt a sudden urgency set in. He needed to break into this silence, needed to unthaw Seung-gil a little bit more before they made it back inside the hotel. What if they went their separate ways, and Seung-gil didn’t give him his number? He had everyone’s numbers! What if he never heard that laugh again? Or even worse, what if they didn’t get a selfie together?

Outside the hotel, Phichit loudly proclaimed that they needed a group picture. They all agreed more or less and he whipped out his portable selfie-stick, holding it up in position.

“We need to get closer, otherwise we won’t all fit!” He wrapped an arm around Seung-gil’s waist, making the man go stiff. He wasn’t smiling, but Phichit started snapping away once Leo and Guang Hong were in position.

He could excuse away the arm wrapped tightly around Seung-gil’s waist, could explain away pressing his cheek right up alongside his and sighing at the warmth. But Phichit had no logical reason for pressing a kiss to Seung-gil’s cheek other than that he was drunk. Yes, it was the booze. He absolutely hadn’t been thinking about how round his cheeks looked up close, and definitely hadn’t been wanting to give them a kiss ever since yesterday outside the rink’s bathrooms.

Guang Hong was giggling from his position against Leo’s shoulder, and Leo was side-eyeing the two of them in amusement. But all Phichit had eyes for was the light flush spreading over Seung-gil’s cheeks, the way his warmth seemed to increase, and the way his lips quirked up as he stared intently at Phichit through the phone screen. Phichit grinned right back and regretted nothing.

He’d managed to document Seung-gil Lee both blushing and smiling. Phichit could die happy and successful as the Social Media King.

Later that night when Phichit posted the picture on Instagram, it got over a hundred likes in under five minutes, reaching over a thousand by the time he finished showering. Yuuri commented that it looked like they’d had fun, while Victor commented that he and Seung-gil looked cute together and added a winky face. Chris felt left out and felt the need to leave five eggplant emojis, while Sara mock-complained that Seung-gil would’ve yelled at her if she’d dared to do the same.

Phichit’s fans were losing their shit over him giving Seung-gil a friendly kiss, screaming the ship name “SeungChuChu” all over the comments section. Meanwhile, Seung-gil’s fans were just happy to have a picture of him that wasn’t professionally staged.

But one comment stood out above all the others. One seung-gillee commented “I had a nice night” and that was that.

Phichit was swooning over that comment for _days_.


	3. Day 3: Pining

Seung-gil didn’t know much about romance, as he’d never been in a relationship before. He’d never been interested in the frivolous people he’d met up until this point, with their preoccupations with appearances and complicated social circles. No, it was best to avoid them altogether.

He was a closet romantic of sorts, sure in his belief that if romance was in his future, it would simply happen. It would be something easy, and wouldn’t require group dates or loud drinking or accessorizing his outfits to maximize his “cool factor”.

Sadly, he’d been almost entirely wrong. Romance had indeed come to him, but it hadn’t been as easy as he’d hoped.

One evening last year he’d been living his life, sitting at home and petting his husky Jin, disappointed about not proceeding to the Grand Prix Finals. She was always the best at comforting him when he was feeling… less than ideal. He was watching the programs live while looking up his competitors on his phone, and that’s when he saw him.

His step sequence, his jumps – they pulled him in, commanded his attention. His costume was masculine and graceful, the bright red against the gold enrapturing both him and the live audience. His dark hair glistened under the artificial lights, his tan skin contrasted against the pale ice, and the cut of his waist – he painted a captivating picture with his body.

Seung-gil wanted to look him up, research him and his ISO official strengths and weaknesses. How on earth had he missed this performer, this artist, this tiny god among men?

The finalist ended his short program, arms still in their final pose, and Seung-gil watched as he started to break down on the ice. Normally he’d think the man was weak, crying in front of the whole world. But instead, his passion and relief came through, his pride and self-doubt. The stress of the finals effected everyone, and Seung-gil was surprised to feel a protective instinct well up in his chest.

Who _was_ this?

A quick glance at Instagram yielded an identity: Phichit Chulanont. Seung-gil recalled the name, knew he’d been accepted as a finalist, but couldn’t recall much else about the man. Had they ever met in real life? Had they ever even been in the same room at the same time? No, he didn’t think so.

Thus began a shameful, social-media sponsored spiral into madness. He scrolled through his Instagram in his free time, only stopping when he reached Phichit’s first ever post, which took four days. He then switched to Twitter, and sure enough the Thai man was all over there too. He took so many pictures, live-tweeted so many movies, ate so much gorgeous food.

On this journey, Seung-gil inevitably noticed how attractive he was. Despite traditional Korean standards, he found himself moved by this man, thought his dark skin and wide grin made him look warm and approachable. He wasn’t timid or meek, but outspoken and loud, boisterous in his videos with friends and excitable in the captions of his food snapshots.

But what stood out to him the most was this Phichit’s genuineness. He seemed to be a man that whole-heartedly enjoyed entertainment and captivation, which came across in both his skating and his social media presence.

All of these things repelled Seung-gil when they’d been done by other people. This obsession with public image, this need for validation from perfect strangers – it was all so nauseating to him. So what made this man different? His skating prowess? Maybe. His wide brown eyes, the easygoing humor and fun and warmth he seemed to exude in every single pixelated image? Perhaps.

Was he the same in real life? Was he just as warm?

Perhaps he was just as shallow as other social media tycoons. Perhaps he was simply an expert actor, maintaining the captivating façade for the public every minute of the day. The thought made Seung-gil shudder.

He ran out of social media posts after that week, and then he switched to examining posts between mutual friends. Yuuri Katsuki – the talented hug monster – had a lot of twitter pictures with him, while his Instagram seemed to be devoted entirely to ice skating, Victor Nikiforov, and a frankly adorable poodle.

Seung-gil loved dogs. Yuuri Katsuki seemed like a good guy.

Apparently he’d trained with Phichit Chulanont in the United States, up until a little over a year ago. They mutually proclaimed to be best friends and took a lot of silly pictures together, some containing their coach Celestino Cialdini, and then the images stopped. Katsuki’s social media history was quite short compared to Phichit’s. They must be very different people.

When Seung-gil ran out of social media posts to stalk, time simply went on. He trained, he choreographed his programs alongside his bossy coach, walked his dog. He generally moved on, having accomplished what he wanted – he’d researched a fellow competitor thoroughly, and now he knew what he needed to do to beat him. All he needed was a few hamsters.

Time passed, with new posts made and noticed by Seung-gil and thousands of others. Months went by without communication of any kind, and then suddenly –

“So… You must be Seung-gil! I don’t think we’ve officially met yet, my name’s Phichit Chulanont! I’m a Taurus, and I love long walks on the beach – or around my ice rink, which is all I have time for these days, am I right?”

Seung-gil was not prepared for this encounter. He’d seen Phichit Chulanont get drawn into the Rostelcom Cup with him, but he didn’t think he’d see him before the competition even began.

He was midsentence when Seung-gil gave him a nervous look. He was even more beautiful in person, with round cheeks that Seung-gil wanted to run his fingers over, thick lashes that framed deep brown eyes – they looked even warmer in person. His bangs just brushed his eyebrows, which were a normal size – and great, now Seung-gil wanted to hide his own.

Seung-gil didn’t know much about romance, but he could recognize the signs. Elevated heart rate, an aching sensation in his stomach, a nearly obsessive need to learn _more_ about this person, despite the amount of thorough research he’d already done. He supposed that even with all the research in the world, he could never have been prepared for this interaction. He would’ve been more surprised at these feelings towards another man suddenly flooding his system, but he was too busy being terrified.

Phichit went on talking, mentioning his programs from last year, and Seung-gil’s mind went into overdrive. This man could _not_ , under any circumstances, find out that Seung-gil had feelings for him – or worse, that he’d watched his programs countless times. It had obviously been purely for research and nothing else, but he would look obsessive and creepy and _uncool_ , and that was not how Seung-gil wanted this to go.

What could he do to seem cool, and not at all obsessive or creepy? Cool guys played hard to get, right? Girls always said they found his aloofness “mysterious” or something, so maybe he could play to his natural strengths?

Seung-gil stepped into the elevator, refuted having seen Phichit’s programs, and was on his solitary way.

He’d _nailed that_.

He was only slightly surprised to experience the sudden jump in his feelings, transitioning from a casual interest to a romantic one in the blink of an eye. Somewhere around learning Phichit’s star sign, Seung-gil himself had been seeing stars.

Surely Phichit must be interested in him now? If all went according to his hastily concocted plan, his lack of verbal reciprocation would cultivate his naturally aloof and therefore mysterious and attractive persona, thus inspiring Phichit Chulanont to pursue a relationship with him – friendship or… otherwise.

Yes, otherwise was… definitely on the table. Perhaps he should be having more of a breakdown over his sexuality, but Seung-gil felt such a spiral would be unproductive. He thought no less of himself now, and (embarrassingly) looked forward to advancing his standing in Phichit Chulanont’s regard.

He’d been riding high, content to have his own feelings redefined while making a strong first impression on his competitor, all the while avoiding prolonged contact. That length had been perfect; any longer and surely he would’ve embarrassed himself.

Sadly, the following morning during practice, he’d flubbed his step sequence and Phichit had _seen_. He’d heard his coach reprimanding him, but thankfully she’d done so in Korean. Still, Seung-gil felt anxious at having been noticed during such a weak moment of childishness. His coach simply brought out his stubborn side, that was all.

Seung-gil was deeply ashamed, and turned away from Phichit’s gaze as quickly as possible in a pathetic attempt to hide in plain sight. His shame increased even further at not placing in the top three for the short programs, and he was still thinking about it on his way to the bathroom – how uncool he must seem now, how juvenile he’d acted in defiance of his coach’s professional expectations, how he’d work extra hard during tomorrow’s free skate to restore his “cool factor.”

Those thoughts, coupled with typical performance jitters (which he would deny to his dying day) culminated in Seung-gil paying less attention than normal to the bathroom signs. This then led to the most mortifying moment of Seung-gil’s life.

“Are those… pink?”

He wanted to disappear. He wanted the floor to swallow him up, for his coach to come yell at him some more, for the rink to suddenly catch on fire – _anything_ to distract from his unfortunate state of undress and obvious lack of awareness.

After reassurances from Phichit, Seung-gil calmed down just enough to attempt responses that weren’t exclamations.

And then, “It’s nice to get some firsthand evidence that you’re an actual human being.”

What was that supposed to mean? Had Seung-gil’s cool, attractive aloofness been misinterpreted?

“What?”

“It’s just – you’re so serious, you know. Like, all the time. It’s kind of scary.”

He’d been so… foolish. “I see.”

“So I’m just saying, it’s nice to see you with your pants around your ankles.”

He started to protest, but then paused. If he’d been wrong about his own actions, perhaps he’d also been incorrect regarding Phichit’s own. Perhaps… “Was that a come on?”

The proceeding interactions left Seung-gil with mixed feelings, all of which were overpowered by arousal and shame.

He had no chance – not with Phichit, not in resisting his teasing, and probably not in finding a proper place to take a piss. He’d managed to mess up so spectacularly that there was no way he could recover his reputation in Phichit Chulanont’s eyes. He’d forever be an absent-minded, cold, calculating weirdo with his pants around his thighs – no, his ankles. In his heart, his pants had been around his ankles.

He’d tried to fix everything after the competition ended (Phichit had been spectacular, which was to be expected), but once again Seung-gil was unprepared for what Phichit would give him to work with.

He was dressed in a surprisingly slimming yellow button up, embroidery leading from the collar around his slim neck to stretch nearly to his straight shoulders. There were also tight low-riding jeans. And his hair – god, Seung-gil wanted to run his hands through it. He wanted to mess it up even more; as it was, it looked as if someone else had.

If Phichit decided to look at Seung-gil through his eyes lashes tonight, surely he wouldn’t stand a chance. He’d be slain where he stood, skewered through the heart with Cupid’s arrow.

His heart sank as he realized that such a nice state of dress was likely for a date, but was quickly assured otherwise. His apology for the other day went well, as he was invited out to dinner soon after.

Dinner.

This constituted celebration, yes? This was a date, surely.

He’d thought that surely this night would continue going well, but upon arriving in the lobby, his hopes were dashed to pieces. It was a _group outing_. Seung-gil wasn’t sure if he could fully recover from this disappointment.

Look at him, becoming melodramatic over a boy he’d barely interacted with. It was ridiculous, but not enough so to make him want to give up.

Also, at least he’d get to spend time with Phichit. He could convince him that he wasn’t a weirdo, or a pervert, _or_ a robot. He was a normal person, and he could be… Well, surely he could be fun? And romantic. And a perfect boyfriend.

Dinner had been… interesting. Phichit had only grown livelier the more alcohol he consumed, and his inattention to personal space was similarly amplified. It culminated in an innocent kiss on the cheek which had set Seung-gil’s soul _on fire_.

After that night, he and Phichit communicated more often. From Instagram Phichit had gotten his Snapchat handle, and through that they exchanged phone numbers. The days went by, with them back in their respective countries and practicing for their upcoming qualifying competitions. Usually Phichit was the one to initiate contact, Snapchatting him a selfie or a meal or a hamster, and Seung-gil would generally respond with a text-based response.

‘cute hamster’

‘why dont you send me picssss’

‘I have nothing to take picssss of’

‘your face thooo’

‘No’

‘yur killing meeee’

‘I’m doing no such thing’

‘ >///<’

‘What is that?’

This was generally how their communications went. They pushed his boundaries of English comprehension, but so far he was managing.

Seung-gil was not dissatisfied with them, as it had only been a week since their group dinner outing. He did believe these interactions to be rather superficial, but they were certainly more than he’d had before. He wished to genuinely speak with Phichit, but was unsure where to begin.

Even with their limited in-person interactions and text-based conversations, Seung-gil could tell a lot about Phichit Chulanont. He was bright and lively, was talkative and compassionate and kind. He enjoyed making people feel included, and he was openly friendly with just about all their fellow competitors.

In contrast, Seung-gil was standoffish and unexpressive, tending towards quiet and solitude. They were an ill-suited match, an unlikely friendship – and yes, they were friends, Phichit had said so just yesterday. It was official.

Seung-gil found himself drawn to Phichit rather than repelled, wanting to get to know him and spend their silences together. It was an overwhelmingly romantic notion, but he longed for it all the same. He simply didn’t know how to take that next step. He didn’t know how to cultivate deep, meaningful relationships with people. He didn’t know how to be kind or attentive, and he made people upset far more than he made them laugh.

He didn’t want to make Phichit upset. He desperately wanted to make him laugh.

Seung-gil’s phone chimed, pulling him out of his self-deprecating thoughts. Phichit was bored apparently, as he’d sent Seung-gil another picture of his ice rink.

He sighed, shutting his eyes. He always responded to Phichit, but tonight…

He rolled over, ignoring the subsequent messages Phichit sent him. Although he felt guilty avoiding the chiming sound, Seung-gil needed a moment to think about all this, of a way to get past this cheap form of communication. He needed a way to hold an actual conversation with Phichit.

He must’ve dozed off in his frustration as the next thing Seung-gil knew, he was waking up to the sound of his phone ringing. He groaned, burying his head under his pillow in the hopes that whoever was calling would give up and let him go back to sleep. Four attempted calls alter, and it seemed Seung-gil wouldn’t be able to ignore this person.

“What?” He muttered, voice rough from sleep and irritation.

“Seung-gil, are you okay? Are you alive? You didn’t respond and I thought you’d gotten in an accident or a ghost haunted your–!”

“Phichit?” He sat up, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “What?”

“ _Are you okay_?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he sighed. “Why are you calling?”

“Oh… Ah, I feel kind of stupid now.”

“Huh?”

“I freaked out over nothing, it’s just that usually you get right back to me? I thought it was weird so I thought – well, you don’t really seem to care, so I guess – I don’t know, I guess I’m the only one that–”

Seung-gil had been scrolling through his phone’s notifications. “32 texts and 47 snaps? Are you crazy?”

“Maybe?”

“I didn’t respond because I fell asleep.”

“… _OH_. Shit, did I wake you up, babe?”

Babe? “Babe?”

“That’s – shit, it just slipped out. I don’t – ahhhhh, stop embarrassing me!”

Since no one was around, Seung-gil let his smile form easily. “You’re embarrassing yourself all on your own.”

“No, I wasn’t – ugh, this whole conversation is against me, I’m not doing this right.”

“It’s fine.”

“Mmm sure. I’m making our first ever phone call go badly, and we both know it. So, what’re you up to?”

“Right now? Waking up.”

“Aaaah, I keep – I’m sorry, you were sleeping!”

“It’s fine.”

“It still early there. It’s only like 8 o’clock here, so it’s… what, 10 for you?”

“Yeah.”

“You feeling okay? Are you sick? Usually you practice until 10.”

“I went to practice early.”

“Oh… You sound stressed. Want to talk about it?”

Seung-gil ran a hand through his hair, worried about how to proceed. Wasn’t this exactly what he’d been lamenting over earlier? Wasn’t this first phone call the next step towards getting to know Phichit better, having him know Seung-gil and not be repulsed by his cold demeanor?

He took a fortifying breath, then admitted quickly, “I was thinking about us.”

There were a few beats of silence on the line, and Seung-gil worried that he’d ruined everything in one fell swoop. “Oh really?”

“Mm.”

“What about us?”

“…How all we do is communicate through Snapchat. It’s weird for friends, right?”

“Well if you got on other social media like I keep asking, then we’d be able to–”

“No, I mean – it’s just,” he sighed. “We don’t actually _talk_ that much.”

“…Oh.” He sounded hesitant.

“I wish we did.”

More silence, then, “Seung-gil, that was _incredibly_ cute.”

“What? No, I’m not – you’re not getting it.”

“ _Cuuuuuute!”_

“Stop, Phichit I’m not trying to be cute or anything!”

“I know, you just naturally are.”

“What?”

“And anyway, aren’t we talking right now?”

“…Yes.”

“So your wish came true, right?”

“…I suppose." 

Phichit Chulanont was an enigma.


	4. Day 4: Free Day, Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4, woohoo! I hope you guys enjoy over a thousand words of straight dialogue.
> 
> I'm so happy that people like this little story I made. Please leave a comment or kudos if you do, it really means a lot to me <3

Living so far from one another, Phichit and Seung-gil were experts at talking on the phone these days. They immensely enjoyed one another's company, and their friendship had progressed far quicker than expected. Already, they’d entered the stage of friendship where they could share embarrassing secrets, and they delighted in learning more obscure details about one another.

The one drawback to their current situation was that neither knew exactly where they stood. Both longed for their friendship to progress further toward the romantic end of the relationship spectrum, and they struggled with hiding their secret mutual wishes. So as they proceeded to divulge harmless secrets to one another, they both kept the most important one to themselves.

“Okay, okay! You should go first.”

“What? Why me?”

“Because I said so! And because I totally can’t think of anything right now.”

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

“Thank you, babe.”

“…It’s weird when you use an English endearment.”

“It doesn’t mean anything, I’m just teasing. I was in Detroit for a long time, okay?”

“I don’t know the Korean equivalent. It’s unsettling for me to not know the exact parameters of–”

“Shhhh just know I adore you for going first, okay?”

“…Fine. Well, I have a cousin that’s two years older than me. She’s pretty serious, but–”

“Wait, someone related to you is serious? No way.”

“Actually, I’m the funny Lee.”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t believe that.”

“I’m a riot in Korean.”

“…I don’t know if I should believe you or not.”

“Your loss.”

“Wait, now I’m actually wondering if–”

“My cousin and I don’t talk much anymore. It’s not sad or anything, we simply lost touch.”

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. The point is when we were little, I looked up to her a lot. So much so that when I was six and my family was staying at her house, I told her I wanted to grow up to be her.”

“Okay, go on.”

“And she told me to my face that it wasn’t possible because, ‘I didn’t wear skirts.’ In her mind, she was using something synonymous with womanhood to represent how I could not be a woman, and thus could not be her. Putting aside the fact that modern technology has changed that, I do understand where her eight-year old mind was coming from. Anyway, that night, I snuck into her room and put on one of her skirts to–”

“ _AAAAAAW!_ ”

“She got – she wasn’t very – _stop laughing_.”

“But that’s _sooooo cuuuuute_!”

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have gone first.”

“No, no no no! Don’t regret this, keep – finish the story!”

“When I showed her, she was mad… Not because I was wearing her clothing, but because I ‘looked better in it than she did.’”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH–”

“ _If you don’t stop screaming_ , I’ll hang up the–”

“But now I really want to see a baby Seung-gil in a skirt! That sounds super adorable!”

“I wasn’t a baby, I was six.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, that’s my secret. I once tried on girl’s clothing, and it… worked.”

“I kind of want to see _adult_ Seung-gil in women’s clothes now that you’ve–”

“No.”

“I mean, I already know I look amazing in women’s lingerie–”

“Wait, _what_?”

“–But that shouldn’t intimidate you!”

“It doesn’t.”

“Aw, but your legs! I bet it’d still ‘work’ really well.”

“ _No_.”

“But your ass is so perky and your hips are kind of–”

“Stop imagining it in such detail! I’m never wearing girl’s clothes again and you can’t make me.”

“Hmmm, maybe for a special occasion?”

“What kind of special occasion – _no_.”

“Ugh, such a party pooper.”

“I don’t care.”

“Party Pooper Seung-gil is my least favorite Seung-gil!”

“I’ll live.”

“Ugh. Wait, before I–”

“No way, I held up my end of the deal!”

“Just wait! I have a question relating to your rich history of cross-dressing.”

“I’ll ignore that. What’s your question?”

“Those bright pink boxer briefs you wore for the short programs.”

“Umm.”

“I gotta’ ask: _why_.”

“We’re not going to move on until I answer, are we?”

“Nope!”

“…My cousin gave them to me as a joke, and I’m convinced they’re lucky.”

“Not gonna’ lie, that’s super adorable. I thought you guys weren’t close?”

“Doesn’t stop her from giving me embarrassing gifts on my birthday. So I held up my end of the deal, _and_ answered your extra question with minimal resistance. Tell me a secret.”

“Eh, I don’t really feel like it now.”

“ _Are you kidding me_?”

“Maybe I need a little… motivation.”

“You can’t _extort me_ into wearing women’s clothing!”

“And you say your English is no good.”

“Phichit!”

“What about panties?”

“I… No! Why would I – NO.”

“You hesitated!”

“I didn’t! You can’t prove – stop laughing, Phichit!”

“I can’t – you might – oh my god, that’s such a great mental image!”

“ _Stop_.”

“I bet your face is super red right now! Ahaha, I can picture it now!”

“…It’s very warm, so you’re probably right.”

“You’re always hot though.”

“…”

“…”

“…Ah, I get the joke.”

“ _You’re killing me_.”

“English jokes are confusing for me.”

“Hmmmm sure.”

“Now I feel insecure in my language abilities.”

“Oh, I didn’t – I’m sorry, I wasn’t–”

“Make it up to me by telling me a secret.”

“…You’re so sneaky.”

“You have to, we agreed.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just thinking – don’t sigh at me! I’ll imagine you in panties again if you keep–”

“I won’t sigh again for as long as I live.”

“You’re so extra, and I love it.”

“Phichit.”

“Fine, fine! My secret is… You promise not to laugh?”

“...Are you joking?”

“It’s just that I’m kind of sensitive about it, so if you laughed I think it’d genuinely hurt my feelings.”

“You just spent the last ten minutes laughing your ass off at my expense.”

“I know it’s hypocritical, but… please?”

“Fine.”

“I already said no sighing!”

“Fine, fine. I promise I won’t sigh, and I promise I won’t laugh.”

“Okay. So… in keeping with the theme of doing things with girls’ products… I…”

“…?”

“…I wear makeup sometimes. Okay, a lot. Okay, basically every day.”

“…”

“Seung-gil? Say something, I’m all anxious now.”

“…Why do you wear makeup?”

“ _Because_ I like looking nice! I like my eyelashes long, and I like evening out my skin tone, and I like using eyeliner to make my eyes look bigger. And I like emphasizing my cheekbones, which are basically nonexistent without contouring. I’m so jealous of your eyebrows, I have to draw mine in! Anyway, it makes me look _amazing_ on Instagram–”

“You do it for social media?”

“Well, yes and no – I’m not – I swear it’s not because I’m shallow but I just really – I like looking good, okay? And not just ‘good’ good, I mean ‘gorgeous’ good! Why shouldn’t I be allowed to look my best, hah? Not that I look bad without makeup – I’m damn fine all the damn time. But I like looking _better_ than fine – is that crazy? I mean, it’s bullshit that guys can’t wield the same weapons as women, and I’m only – I’m rambling.”

“I’m used to it.”

“You’re dying to laugh, aren’t you?”

“Not really.”

“…Why?”

“Mostly I’m just relieved.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When I first saw you in person, I was really confused as to why you looked so…”

“So…?”

“Perfect.”

“…Awwww.”

“Stoooop.”

“But that’s super sweet! I’m glad my makeup skills are good enough to fool you.”

“…You probably still look perfect without your makeup on.”

“Oh my god, you’re going to make me cry.”

“Don’t cry. I hear mascara is expensive.”

“You have _no idea_. I spent over a thousand _Thai_ _baht_ on this gooey shit.”

“How much is that in dollars?”

“Like… thirty-ish.”

“…Damn.”

“ _Right_?”

“It’s worth it though, right?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“…I feel weird after telling you that.”

“You shouldn’t. It’s… cute.”

“…”

“…”

“ _Awwwwwww, you’re_ the cute one!”

“ _Stoooop_.”


	5. Day 5: Folklore

Phichit was wandering the forest, looking for a snack. It was midday, the sun high and merciless in the summer sky, and all he wanted was to relax in the shade with something sweet.

The life of a Buddhist disciple was simple. Pleasure was never sought, yet contentedness was allowed. Thus, Phichit felt secure in his spirituality even as he wove between the densely packed trees in search of a tasty piece of fruit. He would find and enjoy it not because it gave him pleasure, but because it would provide him with sustenance.

…And because it would taste good.

He was a bad disciple, okay? Whatever!

Working as Gautama Buddha’s attendant was rewarding, and the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment was a noble one. Even so, it could be difficult for him to maintain his spiritual discipline, and Phichit took solace in his breaks away from the temple and immersed in nature.

He came upon a bountiful lychee tree, and nearly cheered in triumph. It wouldn’t have been befitting of a disciple, but it didn’t matter that much. In this life, Phichit was a simple yogi, well liked and laid back, unlike the grumpy ascetics in the next town over.

Just as he was reaching for a lychee nut, the tree was suddenly ten feet away. Confused, Phichit once more stepped forward and reached out, yet once again the tree distorted itself and sprang back.

Was this a dream? No, surely this was the work of some demon.

Perplexed, he looked around and sure enough, some fifty feet away a man was snickering to himself, half hidden behind a thick banyan tree trunk. Odd, as banyans are found in groves, and this one was standing isolated from its brethren. Upon closer inspection, the man in the shade of the banyan’s thick branches had an abnormal aura emanating from him.

Phichit approached cautiously, eyes wide and focused on the figure. The man stopped laughing, now focused on Phichit as well. They watched one another intently, Phichit nearly losing himself in the darkest eyes he’d ever seen.

The figure stepped forward, movements lithe and confident. Coming out of the shade revealed just why Phichit had thought the man abnormal. His pale skin was like nothing Phichit had ever seen, and coupled with those mesmerizing eyes, he was captivating in this form.

Before his very eyes, the man moved even further out of the shadows to reveal that he was not a man at all, but a _Naga_ , part man and part snake. His pale skin bled into dark green scales, which made up a great and powerful midnight black tail. It twisted and swirled over the grassy underbrush, and every wide sweep transfixed Phichit even further. The shadows around him also moved, writhing with the movement of dozens of smaller, similarly colored snakes.

“It is rude to stare,” the _Naga_ said. Phichit was popular among the local villagers for his charisma, but his sociable nature was failing him in the face of the supernatural.

This _Naga_ was absolutely stunning. He’d never seen one before, hadn’t entirely believed them to be real. Their physical forms could be altered, as demonstrated by the creature now walking towards him on two human legs.

He was still pale, his hair dark, greenish and thick, large waves reminiscent of the movements of his tail. He stepped up to Phichit, whose mind had gone blank.

“You’re being rude, you know. Staring like that,” he admonished, pinching Phichit’s cheek.

“I – I apologize,” he mumbled, the weak words escaping him as quickly as they’d come.

The creature’s sleeveless tunic revealed strong, pale arms. His loose pants were tied high on his waist, accentuating the muscular torso underneath while simultaneously revealing pale calves to the midday sun. The thing’s hand traced Phichit’s jaw, moving to cup the back of his neck.

“You’re handsome, so I’ll allow this trespass,” the creature spoke, quirking his lips in a smirk. “Surely you have a name?”

“My name is…” _Ananda_? “Phichit.”

“Well hello, Phichit,” it smiled. Its other hand came up to rest on Phichit’s hip, gripping him firmly. “My name is Seung-gil, and I am a serpent king.”

“That name does not suit a _Naga_ such as yourself.” It was a relief to have his words back.

“It fits me quite well, actually,” he smirked.

“If you say so,” Phichit murmured, staring at how the creature’s lips pulled to the side in amusement. “You said I was handsome, yes?”

The creature – Seung-gil’s hand slid forward, tracing his jaw delicately with slender fingers, and lightly grasping his chin. “Yes, I did.”

“You are also… handsome.”

“Is that so? I was hoping to appear beautiful, but I suppose your compliment will suffice.”

Phichit swallowed nervously at the thumb now running along his lower lip. “You are also beautiful.”

“Ah, that is what I like to hear,” the creature named Seung-gil muttered, leaning in. His arm wrapped around his waist, and Phichit gasped at the forwardness – and at how welcome it was. “Are you opposed to this?”

What a considerate _Naga_.

Phichit shook his head once, words once again failing him. The creature leaned in even further, a predatory look in its dark, mesmerizing eyes. While it had limited magical abilities, none of them could create such attraction, such a hypnotizing pull. Was Phichit simply reacting to this creature’s appearance?

No, there was indeed something magnetic. Something was bubbling under the surface, tinting the interaction towards friendliness and familiarity, although they’d only just met.

Phichit was used to being the most influential person in the village, getting his way with an easy smile as people fell over themselves to associate with him. But in this moment, he felt as if he had no power. He was entirely taken over by this thudding in his chest, this heat in his cheeks and gut, this desire to know this creature intimately.

What a steady gaze, grounding him in his sea of desire. What strong arms, holding him close. He wanted to stay like this forever, wanted to surrender himself to this beast.

“You will be mine, yes?”

Phichit excitedly nodded, unable to speak when the creature’s lips were closing in on his own. They looked soft and were only a hair’s breadth away. He could feel the creature Seung-gil’s breath ghosting along his own sun-dried lips, and he took in a surprised, aroused breath. He reached up to grab at his cheek, his neck, his shoulder – it didn’t matter, but they needed to be closer _now_.

Phichit startled awake, panting loudly in the quiet of the early morning. His blankets were wrapped tightly around him, constricting his waist, and in a moment of confused panic he scrambled free of the imaginary snakes, only to fall on the floor with a startled yelp.

Staring up at his ceiling, leg dangling in the air, Phichit came back to himself. That had been such a strange dream. Weirdly religious, too. Also hot.

He sat up, rubbing a hand down his sweaty face. He had to take stock of a few things, and he wasn’t going to do it on the floor.

As he sank back down onto the edge of his tiny twin-sized mattress, Phichit cursed the old Buddhist folklore his aunts had told him as a child. The only one he knew regarding homosexuality was that of _Ananda_ , a Buddhist disciple who was seduced by a serpent king, a _Naga_ according to Indian Buddhist folklore. The only reason he knew this tale was because one particularly conservative aunt had used it as a precautionary tale.

Don’t love a man. He is tempting you away from purity, and just as _Ananda_ broke off his relationship once it became physical, so too must you resist any such temptations. In hindsight, his conservative aunt must have known of his inclinations, even at such a young age.

He sighed, falling back on his soft mattress and forcibly relaxing his muscles. The day was so early, and already he was tense.

He was not beholden to his extended family. His siblings were understanding, parents unaware. Thai society was liberal for the sake of tourists, but discriminatory in the form of legislation and societal perception of homosexuals. Even so, the Thai people tended towards kindness. He would be fine. He was sure of himself, and he was proud of his self-love and honesty.

Phichit’s phone lighting up on his nightstand caught his attention. He grabbed it, happy for the distraction from his own thoughts.

The selfie he’d posted earlier that evening was getting a lot of hearts. He scrolled through the comments, smiling at how sweet his fans were when it came to Phichit posing with his hamsters. Seung-gil had liked the picture only an hour after he’d posted it, which was a new record for him.

He wondered what would happen if he posed with Seung-gil. Just the two of them this time, and maybe with Seung-gil kissing him on the cheek this time…

Oh god, that was such an embarrassing thought! Phichit could feel his face heating up at the idea. Recalling the point of the dream that’d woken him up, he squealed into his pillow.

He’d never actually kissed Seung-gil, but he _definitely_ wanted to. His subconscious sure did, anyway. They weren’t even officially dating though. Or unofficially dating.

Phichit pouted, reaching for and hugging his pillow close. No, he wasn’t dating Seung-gil. They were friends, and they sometimes flirted and complimented one another, but they weren’t… boyfriends.

Maybe if Phichit called him “babe” enough times, Seung-gil would just become his boyfriend by default.

He could perfectly imagine the frown Seung-gil would wear. A light blush would color his cheeks and nose as he muttered, embarrassed, “All you had to do was ask.”

Even the Seung-gil of his mind was adorable. The Seung-gil of his dreams was apparently _erotic_ – which he supposed was true in reality, but it would never be the first word he’d use to describe the man.

Then again, he recalled the way Seung-gil had looked during his Free Skate last month, during the Rostelcom Cup. He’d won third with that performance, and he’d drawn on his passion much better than he had the previous year. And that costume – oh boy, just thinking about the low V-neck and slits in the legs had Phichit fanning himself.

He thought of Seung-gil’s sleeveless performance tunic, of his pale skin and strong musculature. He thought about his dark eyes, the surprising warmth that could hide deep in there, and his soft-looking hair and lips. He thought of his wicked smile, of his quick wit despite the language barrier. He thought of his dorky laugh, his resting bitch-face, his quiet, calming nature. He thought of the conversations they’d had late into the night, despite how busy they both were and how hard they practiced every single day.

He thought of the way he’d surrendered to him in his dream, the way he’d wanted to just fall over and let Seung-gil have his way with him.

Phichit was in so deep.


	6. Day 6: Time and Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6, yay! We're in the final stretch, just two days left to go!
> 
> I threw in a few relevant Korean proverbs for slight/hopeful authenticity. If I got any wrong, let me know!. And they should be self-explanatory, but if you're confused about any feel free to let me know. I'll add explanations here if I have to <3
> 
> Jin is a Korean female dog name meaning "precious," which I chose because I thought it'd be adorable for Seung-gil to have chosen it.
> 
> I hope you all continue to enjoy this fic! You're all so nice to me, thank you for your supportive kudos/comments!

Seung-gil had many sources of stress, and he was aware of and adequately dealt with all of them.

He wholly devoted himself to his skating for a minimum of eight hours a day, conquering the stress that came with his career. His family was distant and unobtrusive, thus calling them once every month diminished the amount of time he spent on them, and therefore the amount of stress they caused. The stress of being single in a romance-dominant society was… being dealt with.

Seung-gil knew how important it was for one’s mental health to have low-stress time in the day, and as such planned his free time accordingly. He enjoyed reading books, researching his fellow competitors, walking and playing with his husky Jin, talking to Phichit – obviously, the possibilities were boundless.

But today, despite scarcely having time to open his eyes and ears, Seung-gil had an hour of free time and nothing to do with it. Sitting idly would surely lead to thinking about his responsibilities, and therefore compound his stress. He had no new books in his apartment, was already up to date on the stats of other skaters, and had just returned from walking Jin. He could attempt to contact Phichit, but…

As silly as it sounded, Seung-gil had never initiated contact. And he was exceptionally nervous to do so today.

Last night, Seung-gil had a dream that was rather… explicit. Therefore, he felt uncomfortable thinking about Phichit, or imagining his warm smile, or considering the cute way he giggled, or remembering how in his dream he’d had an amazingly firm ass –

Seung-gil was in deep.

If he was being honest with himself, it unsettled him how much he liked Phichit. He’d never felt this way about someone before, had never had such an overwhelming need to ask someone about their day; the urge was ridiculous, codependent, and unfamiliar. Seung-gil needed distance to collect his thoughts, to pull himself together and see if this is what he wanted. He needed distance beyond their current situation so as to properly evaluate this… reliance on another person.

He was only two hours ahead of Phichit, but in that moment they felt like years. They lived so far apart, and woke up and ate and breathed at such different times. Seung-gil was separated from him in so many ways – space, time, definitely emotional investment.

Seung-gil was no fool. He knew how enamored he was with Phichit, knew that his desire to spend time with him was indicative of those romantic feelings. He also knew how attracted he was to Phichit, to his warmth and positivity – and yes, his ass. Seung-gil was reserved, not blind.

But Phichit was kind to everyone. He was best friends with Katsuki, the living manifestation of a graceful panic attack. He spent his free time on social media, being social. He said he could, “tolerate JJ.” _JJ_ of all people!

He was obviously too pure and kind-hearted for this world. Seung-gil was simply his newest, shiniest toy. Surely he would grow tired of Seung-gil’s persistent negativity and cynicism, his inability to properly communicate his intentions, or his consistent failure to find the best in others. As his mother would say, Seung-gil is the type to play a Korean double-drum by himself.

Even if Phichit did think he was worth spending time with, Seung-gil wanted to be… more than friends. He wanted to hold his hand, kiss him deeply, make him breathless. He wanted to sweep him off his feet and make him laugh. He also wanted to do… other things. More explicit things.

But as it was, he was barely maintaining their friendship. If Seung-gil got what he wanted, surely he would be biting off more than he could chew.

It would never work. Phichit was only human, but he had a pureness to him that Seung-gil was afraid to sully. No, it was best for him to keep his distance, to foster the distance that already existed. He was in so deep already, and Phichit had no doubt only reached out to him to be friendly, and was now only maintaining the connection because it was what he did with everyone. Phichit would grow bored, and he would move on – which was not a commentary on Phichit’s own loyalty, but on Seung-gil’s own lack of interesting qualities.

“Jin,” Seung-gil called out. His husky padded into his bedroom, sitting at his feet obediently. He pat the mattress next to him, prompting the massive dog to heft herself onto the mattress and sit politely next to him. Jin was a good dog.

Chest tight from his earlier thoughts, Seung-gil held Jin close, burying his face in her fluffy mane. Jin panted and licked his ear. She was perfect, and all he’d ever need for company.

Seung-gil eventually settled under his covers, Jin laying across his legs. The weight was grounding, and appreciated.

He was here, in his tiny apartment in Seoul, South Korea, with a Siberian husky and a mountain of insecurities. He needed to get a grip. Contacting Phichit wouldn’t help.

He’d just go to bed early, wake up early, and fit in an extra hour of practice tomorrow. He needed it, what with Skate America being just three days away. Low-stress relaxing was ridiculous, who needed mental health? Absolutely no one. He definitely shouldn’t call Phichit.

If something becomes distant from one’s eyes, it also becomes distant from one’s heart. If he avoided contacting Phichit, his troubles would likewise be avoided.

That’s what he told himself as he dialed a familiar number.

On the fourth ring, Phichit answered. “Hey! I’m – quit it! I know already, just – oh please, I don’t need this!”

Confused, Seung-gil stayed silent as he waited for an explanation. There was a deep voice yelling in the distance, and the sound of Phichit grumbling to himself in Thai. A door closed loudly, and he heard heavy footfalls, padded metal on tile.

“Sorry about that,” Phichit greeted in English. “Ciaociao is being a jerk today.”

“Is this a bad time?” If he was burdening himself that was one thing, but if Phichit was inconvenienced by–

“No, not at all! It’s actually the perfect excuse, I’ve been wanting to end practice early for hours.”

“I see…” There was silence, the sound of Phichit probably undressing – _oh god._ “So – so practice?” Seung-gil stammered, talking over the rustling to distract himself from what was happening in Phichit’s locker room. “Practice was – it was not good?”

“You sound weird. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Great. I’m completely great.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“So practice?”

Phichit sighed. “I don’t know why, but today I barely landed any of my quads. I feel kind of useless, and usually Ciaociao – _Celestino_ , he doesn’t deserve a nickname today – he’s usually understanding when I have an off day. But he’s been so _grumpy_ , and he’s taking it out on me!”

“That’s… not good.”

“I know! And he’s all, ‘Phichit, you are a professional! Stop being so childish!’”

“Nice accent,” Seung-gil chuckled, unable to help himself.

He could hear the answering smile in Phichit’s own voice, an auditory detail he’d been noticing more and more lately. “Thanks, I’ve been working on it under my breath all damn day.”

Seung-gil smiled, imagining Phichit imitating Celestino in a subpar Italian accent to his face. “I don’t think I’ve heard you complain this much at one time.”

“Well get used to it. I’m a complainy person with my close friends.”

He ignored how hot his cheeks felt at that. “I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

“It’s alright, it’s already going much better!”

“Why is that?”

“Well, _you_ called _me_.”

“Ah… yes. I… did.”

“It’s new, and I like it. You should be the one calling me all the time. Seeing your name pop up on my      screen made my day 99% better, and this conversation brought it fully up to 100%.”

Seung-gil huffed, “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like that about me! Come on, just admit you love me!”

Seung-gil swallowed nervously. He knew it was a lighthearted comment, but he couldn’t help feeling the weight his own heart wanted to prescribe to it.

“Seung-gil? You still there?”

“Sorry, it’s – Jin is being… distracting.”

“Jin? Who’s – oh, your dog!”

“Yeah. She’s… heavy.”

Phichit practically squealed in delight. “Oh my god, is your dog laying on top of you?”

“Somewhat.”

“ _Adorable_.”

They continued talking for nearly an hour, covering things like what happened in their respective days, the stress of the last qualifying round for the Final, and whether or not peanut butter and an apple constituted a proper meal. Phichit argued that there was protein, and thus it was meal-worthy. Seung-gil respectfully disagreed.

Jin eventually moved up the bed, and Phichit claimed that hearing Jin’s panting made him want to meet her in person. Jin had perked up at hearing her name, and then barked into the phone.

By the time Seung-gil stopped snickering at Phichit’s complaints (“Your dog is _ferocious_ , my ears are ringing from that loud ass bark!”), he noticed Phichit was silent on his end of the line.

“What is it?”

“No-nothing, just – laughing is very – I should start getting ready for bed.”

“Ah,” Seung-gil glanced at his phone. They’d been talking for a quite a while, and he had an early start tomorrow. “Yes, it’s late here.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re two hours ahead, so it’s… what, eleven?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s after your bedtime, right? Go sleep.”

“It’s fine. Actually…” Seung-gil took a steadying breath. “I called today for a reason.”

“A reason other than to hear the melodious sound of my voice?”

“Yes.”

Phichit paused, then asked, “Oh, are you being serious? Shit, I didn’t even think – I’m sorry, I was just super ready to complain today.”

Seung-gil rolled his eyes, despite Jin being the only one to appreciate it. “It’s fine. It’s nice knowing you’re not relentlessly positive.”

“…Thanks?”

“It’s humanizing, I suppose. But I also like your positivity – both are good.”

“Oh. Okay, cool. That’s, well, that’s cool I guess.”

“Phichit, we’re rambling.”

“Well you called me for a reason, and I just kept talking about myself, and now I kind of feel bad and rude. So I don’t – well, why’d you call?”

Jin was sleeping peacefully just a foot away, and Seung-gil stared at her, imploring her to wake up. He was about to do something incredibly foolish and impulsive, and he desperately needed the support. “I was thinking.”

“Oh no, that’s never a good sign.”

“Phichit,” Seung-gil sighed, frustrated.

“I’m sorry, humor is my coping mechanism! Anyway, what were you thinking about?”

He shouldn’t say anything, shouldn’t have even made this call in the first place. He’d known as soon as Phichit picked up that it would lead to this. He already knew that they would never happen, knew that he was nothing more than a new friend to Phichit.

“About… us.” Shit, he was an idiot.

The line went silent, and Seung-gil watched the way Jin’s chest calmly rose and fell with each sleeping breath.

“What – what brought this on?”

“I’m… conflicted. And confused.”

“Wh-why? You’re – confused?”

“Yeah.”

“Um… oh. Okay, uhh… why?”

Seung-gil could feel his heart racing, his hands shaking and body sweating. He rested his free hand over one of Jin’s outstretched paws. It was now or never. “I might… like you.”

“Well–” Phichit interrupted himself with nervous laughter. “Friends usually – they like each other, you know?”

That was a bad sign. Seung-gil needed to stop this conversation right now, drop the topic and reroute towards something safer. “I like you differently.” What was _wrong_ with him today?

“Oh, you – do you not like me?” Phichit sounded hurt. Nothing good was coming out of this conversation, and damn it Seung-gil needed to end it!

“I like you romantically,” he spat out, brain and mouth once again refusing to cooperate.

“…Oh.”

Seung-gil held his breath, waiting.

“Is that how you – do you actually – _oh my god,_ wait, _what_?”

That didn’t sound good. Seung-gil felt his chest ache as it stretched into a bottomless pit, and was once again tempted to hide in Jin’s fur.

“Do you – are you saying you want to date me?” Phichit sounded nervous and uncomfortable. Seung-gil did that.

His throat felt dry and his eyes stung. “Yes,” he answered, voice small.

“… _Oh_.”

Seung-gil felt like an idiot.

There was more awkward laughter. “My day went from zero to a hundred so fast.”

“Mn.”

“Seung-gil, you – _oh my god_.”

“Just – come on, answer me.”

“I – I’m so, I can’t even–”

“If you’re going to turn me down, just say it,” he barked into the phone, rousing Jin from her nap.

“I’m so happy I’m crying over here, and you’re asking me to _let you down gently_? Shut up!”

Seung-gil froze, confused and terrified. “You’re… happy?”

“I’m – I’m so happy, Seung.”

What did that mean? “Oh… And you’re crying?”

He heard sniffling over the line, and Jin’s ears perked up. “Can we – can we switch to Facetime?”

“Why?”

“I think my mascara is running, but I want to – I need to see you right now.”

“Mn,” he responded before hanging up and dialing Phichit over Facetime in seconds.

When he answered, Seung-gil’s breath got stuck in his throat. Phichit’s dark eye make-up was smudged from the way his eyes were watering, and when he saw Seung-gil the tears started rolling down his cheeks even faster. His tan cheeks were flushed darker with a blotchy pink, and his bottom lip was _quivering_.

“Your face is a mess,” Phichit choked out, lips quirking into a smile for a brief moment.

“Mn,” he grunted out, unable to retort with “Likewise,” the way he wanted to.

“So, are you being serious?” Phichit muttered, voice wavering. “Do you really want to date _me_?”

Seung-gil nodded, words escaping him.

Phichit whined, then threw himself onto his mattress. Seung-gil got a very nice view of his ceiling from wherever his phone had landed. Jin whined at the noise, but otherwise stayed calm.

“Are you okay?”

“ _NOOO, I’m a mess_!”

“I’m sorry I made you cry?”

“Don’t you _dare_ apologize!”

Seung-gil was still unsure of where they stood, but he found himself tentatively smiling at Phichit’s theatrics. “So is this a yes?”

The phone turned and shook, revealing Phichit with half his face pressed into his pillow. “Yes. Yes, yes, I really want to date you,” he answered, voice shaking as badly as his phone camera.

“Okay,” Seung-gil muttered, voice soft. “So we’re dating. That’s… good.”

“I really _really_ want to date you, Seung-gil. It would make me so happy.”

“You already said–”

“I like you so much, Seung. I _really want to date you_ –”

Relieved and emotionally exhausted, he chuckled, “You’re killing me, stop.”

Phichit choked out a laugh. “You’re so sweet when you’re embarrassed.”

“...Shut up,” he muttered, glancing away in embarrassment. Phichit giggled, then gasped.

“Oh no, I think I ruined my pillow case.”

For some reason (probably nerves) that set Seung-gil off. He tried to hold it back, but he couldn’t stop laughing. Jin sat up and started barking at the noise, which only made the laughing fit worse.

“Don’t laugh at me! You’re the one who made me ruin it!”

“You’re – you’re right,” he barely choked out. “I’m – I’m so sorry.”

“Aw, your laugh is too cute for me to stay mad at you.”

They laid there smiling at each other for a few moments, Phichit wiping at his eyes and attempting to get his running mascara back under control. It was obviously futile, but the gesture was… endearing.

Seung-gil’s mind felt blissfully blank compared to his earlier storming thoughts, as he was immensely satisfied with this outcome. Thinking back to how much he hadn’t wanted to make this call and hadn’t wanted to bring up his feelings, he felt the urge to punch his past-self in the face.

Suddenly, Jin pounced on Seung-gil’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. Seung-gil reprimanded her in Korean, but Jin just shuffled forward and covered Seung-gil’s chest with her massive head. She licked at his chest over his loose T-shirt, and it was both surprising and unwelcome.

“Oh my god, you look like he just shit on your bed!”

“This behavior is disobedient and uncalled for,” Seung-gil muttered, glaring down at his dog. Phichit’s laughter in the background was secondary to Jin leaning up and licking Seung-gil’s nose.

Judging from the sounds he was making, Phichit was surely dying.

“Jin – Jin, you’re my _favorite_!”

He glared at the way her ears perked up at her name. “She’s a monster.”

“No way, she’s a sweetie!”

Seung-gil rolled his eyes. “Sure, okay.”

Phichit was grinning at him now. “You make me really happy.”

Seung-gil was surprised, and could feel his face heating up. “Oh?”

He nodded, eyes seeming to turn soft. “I wanted to ask you out, but I didn’t know how, so… thanks for saying it first.”

Seung-gil sighed, nerves suddenly resurging. “Are you sure?”

Phichit pulled his phone close so that his face was taking up the entire screen. “I am,” he said, staring intently at Seung-gil.

“Okay.”

“Why are you being weird again?”

Seung-gil looked away and focused on running his fingers through Jin’s fur. “You’re very kind.”

“Aw, thanks babe.”

He felt his lips quirk at the now familiar English pet name, but he went right back to being serious. “You’re also sociable, outgoing, optimistic, and talented.”

“Wait, where’s–”

“And you have a lot of friends, and you’re fun, and you’re gorgeous, and you’re perfect, and –”

“Wait, wait!” Phichit glared at him. “As much as I love being showered in praise, I have a feeling this is going somewhere bad.”

Seung-gil frowned, looking away again as Jin nuzzled his hand. He followed the implication and resumed petting. In a pathetically small voice, he asked, “Why do you like me?”

Phichit was probably staring at him, mouth gaping with disbelief. Seung-gil was fidgeting, playing with Jin’s paw, scratching her ear, anything to distract from how uncomfortable he’d made things.

“Forget it,” he muttered, tipping his camera slightly away from himself. “I didn’t mean that, just forget–”

“You’re honest!” Phichit exclaimed, pulling the phone close once again. “And mature, which is hot. And you’re standoffish at first, but once you get comfortable with someone you’re really fun and sweet and _adorable_.”

“I don’t think–”

“I know you’re not comfortable with people, but that’s okay because I totally am! We can… balance each other out, right?”

Seung-gil shrugged, still feeling anxious.

“And you’re – you’re really considerate. And you’re kind, it’s just buried under layers of stoicism but that’s great because I find it really endearing!”

He could feel his cheeks heating up. “I get it, I didn’t want you to–”

“You’re feeling insecure, right?” Seung-gil froze, in the middle of a glance and now stuck staring at Phichit’s sincere face. “It’s okay, just – you’re amazing. All the time.”

He didn’t know what kind of face he was making right now, but it made Phichit smile.

“You’re awful at receiving compliments, though.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, we’ll work on that,” he said, winking.

Seung-gil felt his face heat up even further, and he quickly turned his camera on Jin. “Can we talk about something else now?”

“Hey, don’t hide from me!”

“You’re being embarrassing.”

“You started it! I took your compliments like a champ, and now it’s your turn!”

“But you actually like compliments!”

Phichit giggled, giving away his lack of actual irritation. “Seung-gil, turn it around, please?”

He did, and Phichit smiled widely.

“You look really cute right now.”

Seung-gil scowled and pointed his phone back at Jin as he deflected, “No, Jin is the cute one.”

“You’re _killing me_!”

It was nice to know that with enough effort, even great distances could be overcome.


	7. Day 7: Educational Institutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last day! Thank you all for reading this far, I hope it's been enjoyable. If you like this story, leave me a comment/kudos because they give me a reason to wake up in the morning.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Shut _up_! I don’t’ believe you!”

“You shut up. I’m telling the truth.”

“You’ve _never dated_? _Anyone_?”

“You’re making a big deal out of this.”

“Because my _gorgeous boyfriend_ has _never dated before me_!”

“So?”

“How is that _possible_?”

“If you don’t start speaking normally, I’m going to hang up.”

“Sorry, it’s just – I’m so confused. And surprised. And _confused_.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything – this is stupid.”

Phichit shot up on his bed, gripping his phone tighter. “Don’t say that! I’ll be normal, I promise!”

“Now I’m the one not believing you.”

“Pfft, I can be normal. Listen, listen” he paused for dramatic effect. “Income tax.”

“…Wow. What normal terminology.”

“See?” He giggled at how easily Seung-gil played along. “I can be a normal, mature adult.”

“I was obviously mistaken before. My apologies.”

Phichit laughed, absently toying with the hem of his pajama shirt. His cheeks were starting to hurt with how much Seung-gil made him smile.

It had been nearly two weeks since he and Seung-gil had officially started dating, and it was going _amazingly_. Even though they basically did the same things they’d been doing before (chatting, texting, bantering), it all had a different, rose-tinted feel to it. Bantering with a friend was wildly different from bantering with your insanely attractive boyfriend, and Phichit loved it.

Seung-gil hadn’t done as amazingly as he’d hoped in his Skate America performance, so he wasn’t going on to this year’s Grand Prix Final once again. He’d still performed admirably, and Phichit let him know that, but Seung-gil was aware of his own lack of pizzazz (“That can’t possibly be an English word, Phichit”) in artistic interpretation. His skating was still very technically impressive, and he should be more proud of himself (“Stop worrying, I’ll do well in the Korean Nationals”).

Yuuri and Victor had made it in, obviously. Yuri Plisetsky had also gotten a spot, as had Michele Crispino and (disappointingly) JJ. Phichit had barely managed to claw his way into the sixth spot of the competition, but he was determined to get on the podium by the end.

Surprisingly, he’d beaten out Christophe by a handful of points. The older skater had been graceful in his defeat, but Phichit heard he’d been crying on his boyfriend’s shoulder the night after his last qualifier.

Guang Hong and Leo were excited for him, but they obviously couldn’t root for him. Yuuri was competing too! And how could anyone root against Yuuri? Heck, how could anyone root against Victor Nikiforov? It was impossible.

No, it was easier to just root for everyone. They all worked hard to get here, even JJ. They all deserved supportive fans!

Phichit wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. For himself and Seung-gil and all the skaters like him who’d worked impossibly hard but still hadn’t qualified, he was going to place _and_ look amazing doing it.

Despite his own stellar hype-man capabilities, the nerves were still starting to get to him. As expected, Seung-gil was being supportive and reliable. He freely offered advice and breathing exercises and support, and it all made Phichit even happier to have him around.

He’d asked if Seung-gil would be able to come support him in person, since having him available over the phone did wonders for his stress, so surely he would be an asset by his side. But he understood if he didn’t want to come, as the flight to France was expensive and he didn’t know too many people and taking the time off from practice might be difficult. Seung-gil had answered that he was unsure, and told Phichit he’d let him know.

It obviously wasn’t a big deal. Seung-gil was only human, so of course attending a competition finale he’d failed to get into would be awkward. Sure, Otabek was coming to cheer on Yuri, and the entirety of “Team Russia” was coming just because they could. Even Makkachin was going to be smuggled into Yuuri and Victor’s hotel room, but heaven forbid Seung-gil feel _awkward_. Not a problem.

Honestly, Phichit and Seung-gil had only really been friends since the beginning of November, and now a week into December they’d been dating just two _amazing_ weeks. They were moving pretty fast, so he knew he should be fine with Seung-gil’s decision to stay in Korea. He was fine with Seung-gil being so insecure in their relationship that he couldn’t overcome his own pride and hang-ups to show up to a _two day event_ –

Phichit was fine. Absolutely nothing was wrong.

He took a deep breath, pushing aside his thoughts and asking, “So I’ve been thinking–”

Have you decided to come to the Grand Prix Final yet? Are you not coming because all of a sudden you’re jealous of my friends and I? Is it actually an awful idea to date a fellow skater, and have we made a massive mistake in letting our feelings get this far?

“–Were you a nerd in high school?”

Seung-gil snorted – _actually snorted_. Phichit regretted nothing that brought them to this moment. “I guess, yeah.”

“Wow, even by your standards? That’s something,” he said in a mock-impressed tone.

“I’d been very studious when I was still in school.”

Phichit frowned. “Lucky, I never got to go to high school.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was home-schooled and took placement tests to graduate by 17, so I could focus on skating sooner.”

“Huh,” Seung-gil said in a genuinely impressed tone. “That’s kind of impressive.”

“Shut up, you sound surprised that I was also studious!”

“No, I didn’t – that wasn’t–”

Phichit’s cackling gave him away.

“You’re not angry? Ugh, you’re so – stop laughing at me!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he giggled. “So how many years were you in high school?”

“Just one. I was home-schooled for the last two, and it was boring."

“My aunt is a teacher, so she presented all my lesson plans,” Phichit explained, getting up to wander around his apartment. “Did you do self-studying?”

“Yeah.”

He hummed, tracing his finger along his kitchen countertop. “That’s probably why it was boring then.”

“You were in Detroit, right? In college?”

“Yeah. I transferred to a local college here in Bangkok, and I’ll graduate sometime next year.”

“Impressive. What’s your degree program?”

Phichit sighed, moving to rummage through his fridge. “Communication. I’m hoping that if my secret skating dreams don’t work out, I can be some social media coordinator for a company, but hopefully for the Thai figure skating association.”

“…That’s so practical.”

He chuckled, grabbing an apple and jar of peanut butter, and then settling on his living room couch. “You sound surprised? Are you surprised? That’s a little insulting, I have to say.”

“…We’re dating, right?”

Phichit frowned down at his phone. It was on speaker phone on the couch armrest, and for a moment he wondered if he’d misheard. “Uh, do you have to ask?”

“Okay, we’re dating.”

“…Yes,” he answered, biting into his apple. “So?”

“So… I think I want to say something.”

“Okay?”

“Something I’d only say to a boyfriend.”

“…Okay?”

He could hear Seung-gil take a deep breath, then mutter, “You being practical is insanely hot.”

Phichit spit out his half-chewed chunk of apple in surprise.

“Wha-what did – I don’t – wait wait wait _what_?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s true.” Seung-gil’s voice was muffled, as if he was covering his face. Oh god, what if he was blushing?

Phichit could feel his own face heating up. He pressed a hand to his cheek, abandoning his snack altogether. “It’s – I mean, don’t… don’t apologize.”

“Did I make it weird?”

“If anything your lengthy preface did.”

“Hmm, I’ll just speak my mind next time.”

Phichit gaped down at his phone. “Who _are_ you?”

“Hmm?”

“If you do that without warning, you’ll actually kill me. For reals, this time.”

Seung-gil huffed a quick laugh, and Phichit warily picked his snack back up. He shoved a spoon of peanut butter in his mouth, but then his mind went in the gutter extremely fast. Oh god, he shouldn’t be humoring his oral fixation with Seung-gil laughing on the phone – his main auditory weakness!

“So, um,” Phichit rushed out between hurried bites of apple. “You’re – are you in college?”

“I guess, but I only registered for one class this semester.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I don’t even think I have a declared major yet.”

Phichit huffed, a smile on his lips. “So I’m more prepared for the real world than you are?”

“It would seem so.”

“Mmmm hot.”

Seung-gil laughed again, and Phichit’s toes curled at the sound. “The point of this conversation wasn’t to shame my college career.”

“Oh, it wasn’t? That’s what I was aiming for the moment you picked up the phone.”

Phichit could practically hear the eyeroll. “Sure. What were we even talking about before?”

“Dating experience!”

“Oh, right. Well, I haven’t dated anyone because it’s just never happened. I didn’t go to high school, and spent most of my teenage years skating.”

Phichit sighed, continuing his snack. “That’s no excuse, even I’ve dated.”

“…Who,” he said, voice irritated.

“Huh? Was that a question or a statement?”

“I mean – you didn’t – when did you…?”

Phichit giggled. “Are you jealous?”

There was a lengthy paused, then a quietly muttered, “Am I?”

Seung-gil’s lack of experience and honest personality would be the death of him, surely. He smiled as he placated, “It’s – it’s fine, I never dated seriously.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, a girl in middle school, a girl in high school, and a boy in Detroit.”

“Are – are we…”

“Hmm?”

“…We’re dating seriously.”

Phichit paused, collecting his thoughts before he word-vomited the first thing that came to him. “Good job. You’re learning to turn your silly questions into statements of fact.”

“Phichit.”

“We’re dating seriously.”

He heard Seung-gil sigh, hopefully in relief. “That’s… that’s good.”

Phichit sagged back against his couch cushions, exhausted at his boyfriend’s need to have everything explicitly defined. “Good. Glad we established that.”

“So… you’ve dated a lot more than me.”

“Yeah, but never seriously,” he answered, amused. “It was all casual, and the last guy is the only one I ever did anything sexual–”

Did he just say that? Oh god, Seung-gil was going to judge him so hard, then break up with him. He was going to say he was disgusting for having ever looked at another person with sexual thoughts, and having the nerve to act on them. Did Korean people even have sex? Was that normal behavior to Seung-gil – was he even sexually normal in Korean society? Was he super thirsty – wait, was he asexual? Oh god, Phichit needed to find a nunnery for himself – wait, he was being irrational.

Instead of throwing holy water at Phichit through the phone, Seung-gil just asked, “Wait, are we counting sexual encounters as dating?”

What. “ _What_.”

“I mean, I’ve fooled around with people before. Back in my first year of high school, a girl said I looked like her favorite idol, so we made out and fooled around a bit. It was just once, though.”

“...How dare you!”

“What?”

Phichit caught himself, pausing to stop the lightning fast irrationally jealous blood from pumping through his veins and staining his words. “I – sorry? I’m feeling very conflicted right now.”

“…Why?”

“Because I just went through this whole shame spiral, but you’re completely chill about this. And now I’m _also_ irrationally jealous of your… experience.”

He paused. “I mean… we’re both adults.”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you making this weird?”

“I’m just surprised,” Phichit muttered. “I thought you’d be more prudish than this.”

“I’ll admit, the feeling is mutual.”

He was surprised to hear this , but couldn’t pass up a prime opportunity for teasing. “What, you think I’m prudish?”

“You’re very – you seem so… pure.”

“ _Ahahaha_!”

“Stop laughing at me!”

Phichit threw himself back on his couch, smiling and clutching at his stomach. “Oh my – you do remember the bathroom incident, don’t you?”

“…Vividly.”

“By the end, I think I showed you how very impure I can be.”

“…That’s also really hot.”

Phichit felt his face heat up, but he wouldn’t let embarrassment derail him quite yet. “Oh really? You like it when I’m dirty?”

“…Now _I’m_ conflicted."

He let his laughter bubble up again, heard Seung-gil grumbling over the phone but couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Seung-gil wasn’t going to come to the Grand Prix Final to support him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. It didn’t mean their relationship was ending, and it didn’t mean they were doomed to fail before they’d even started.

It just meant that his pride was a bit wounded, and he’d need time to get over it. He was socially awkward, and Phichit had to respect when he didn’t feel confident enough to deal with all of Phichit’s skating friends at once. Practice was an important, grounding experience for Seung-gil, and after beating himself up over this season’s performance, Seung-gil would need work now more than ever.

Phichit was happily surprised to realize he was finally alright with Seung-gil not coming to the Final. It wasn’t ideal, but his feelings were no longer hurt.

After all, he had an amazing boyfriend who’d tease him and talk about his _purity_ , for god’s sake. Even when it’s embarrassing for him, he’ll talk about his own nearly nonexistent dating history, and openly admit to experiencing illogical jealousy. He’s talking to him now, even when it’s past midnight in South Korea and therefore well past his strictly scheduled bedtime. He’s laughed _twice_ tonight, and memorably _snorted_ at Phichit’s ridiculousness.

Seung-gil was amazingly thoughtful, and he was totally allowed to be selfish about this one small thing. Surely it was for the best.


	8. Day 8: Celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last day's piece for all you lovely people!
> 
> Every kudos and comment has honestly meant so much to me, thank you all. I started this challenge just to prove to myself that I could actually do something, and it's inspiring to see so many people who like what I can do. From the bottom of my heart, thank you all!
> 
> With that, enjoy!

The Grand Prix Final was going weirdly so far. All his fellow competitors were being friendly, seemingly uncaring of tomorrow’s stressful short programs. Phichit could remember last year, how the stress melting away had made him cry out on the ice – had made nearly everyone cry.

Maybe if it had just been the six finalists they wouldn’t be loitering around in some French hotel bar, chatting easily and sharing food. But Sara was here supporting Michele, and “Team Russia’s” Georgi and Mila tagged along to both support their friends and tease Yuri. He was sitting next to Otabek, who was stoically ignoring Mila’s suggestive comments as to why he was here.

Yuuri and Victor had been extremely competitive these last few weeks (“Phichit, we’ve started timing how long we brush our teeth. The pressure is getting to us.”), but right now they were flirting like a normal couple. And although uninvited, JJ and his wife Isabella were sitting with them, bragging about JJ’s performance in a way that was somehow amicable and not douchey.

And then there was Phichit. He’d done a good job socializing and posting on Instagram and Twitter, even updated his Facebook profile picture to one with Yuuri snorting soda out of his nose and Phichit holding up a peace sign. But seeing all the support his friends had made him feel a tad lonely.

He really wished Seung-gil had come. Phichit had been understanding towards his hang-ups, but being surrounded by your competitors and their “special someone’s” as you sit alone, laugh along to inside jokes you don’t understand and can’t make – it was unfairly depressing and understandably disheartening.

He was petulantly blowing bubbles into his soda when his phone started ringing. He glared down at it, but felt his bad mood dissipate at the caller ID.

“Hey,” he answered, smile slipping onto his face despite his earlier funk. He wove away from the cluster of tables easily enough, happy for an excuse to abandon this particular social event. Yuuri and Victor sent him a matching set of questioning looks, and JJ made a comment about him running away from the competition, but he just waved at them by way of explanation. “What’s up?”

“I was being stupid before,” his amazing boyfriend said by way of a greeting.

“Oh?” He smirked playfully. “Which time?”

“Very funny,” Seung-gil huffed. “About the Final. I was also selfish, and I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” he said, leaning against a wall in the lobby. There weren’t many people around, just two workers behind the front desk, so he didn’t feel rude taking his call out here. “I understand where you’re coming from, we’ve talked about it.”

“Where I _was_ coming from.”

“Huh?”

“I’m walking into your hotel right now. Come down and meet me?”

Phichit froze, question lodged in his throat and eyes locked on the lobby doors. Sure enough, seconds later his _amazing perfect wonderful_ boyfriend came walking through the sliding doors, duffle bag slung over one shoulder.

They locked gazes, both standing still and holding their phones dumbly. Phichit didn’t remember to hang up the call, didn’t even remember how. He covered his mouth with his free hand, felt his eyes starting to water, but he couldn’t move. He was afraid that this was just his imagination further torturing him, that Seung-gil would disappear the moment he reached out.

Seung-gil mumbled, “Ummm,” into the phone, and it was the grounding push Phichit needed. He ran forward, leaping into a hug and wrapping himself as tightly as possible around his boyfriend. For his part, Seung-gil at least kept them upright. But he was stiff and awkward, and his brain was probably still buffering from having seen Phichit so soon.

“I don’t know what to say,” Phichit whined into his shoulder, gripping his shoulders tighter in an attempt to stop his hands and voice from shaking.

“Is this – did I do the right thing?” At least Phichit wasn’t the only one feeling shaky.

“ _Yessss_ ,” Phichit moaned, shoving his face into Seung-gil’s neck. “I’m going to cry.”

“Don’t do that! You’ll mess up your mascara again.”

His laugh was wet and sharp like a sob, and he pulled back just enough to look at Seung-gil’s face. His boyfriend’s blush was making his face practically glow, a neon sign pointing out how overwhelmed he was right now despite his poker face. If it wasn’t for that bright pink and his wide, disbelieving eyes, Phichit would think this was a typical occurrence for him. Thankfully, he’d recently obtained a conversational understanding in the language of Seung-gil.

“I think this is the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done,” Phichit sniffled, wiping at his nose and cheek. He was grinning so widely his face was starting to hurt, and he pressed his forehead into Seung-gil’s collar.

He responded by rubbing a hand up and down Phichit’s back, the other wrapped securely around his waist. “Your influence, no doubt.” The sarcasm was expected. Next would come…

“This is so romantic.”

“That’s good, I was worried it’d be weird.” Yup, there it was: the abrupt honesty.

Was he fluent in Seung-gil? They’d barely been dating two weeks, surely it was too soon to claim fluency in such a language.

“It is, but I love it.” Phichit’s smile went wobbly, and he reached up to cup Seung-gil’s neck, stroking his thumb over his jaw. “I haven’t seen you in person in so long.”

“Yeah,” Seung-gil muttered, pulling him impossibly closer.

Phichit barely suppressed his nervous laughter. “The shock is wearing off, so I think I’m going to cry now,” he whispered, eyes starting to water. He’d always been an easy crier, so he didn’t have a chance in stopping this.

Even though Seung-Gil knew this about him, he still froze in panic. Phichit felt him nod against his temple, the gesture reassuring and calming. God, Phichit could actually read him through his body movements, this was so weird. Usually all he had to go on was stoic Facetime expressions.

He felt the tears start rolling down his cheeks, and he futilely wiped a few away. He didn’t want to get his make-up on Seung-gil’s shirt, but his wonderful and amazing boyfriend pressed a kiss onto the side of his head, and how were Phichit’s tear ducts supposed to ignore that, to not treat it like the miracle it was? How was he not supposed to press a watery kiss into the side of his neck, his collarbone? How could anyone expect his heart not to melt, for his breath not to shudder in his throat and smile not to spread wide and thin and satisfied?

Phichit was all too happy to hug his boyfriend in a French hotel lobby in front of two unknown employees late the night before the short programs of the Grand Prix Final. Surely weirder, more amazing things had happened before this moment, but Phichit couldn’t think of any.

It felt like hours had gone by when Seung-gil’s curiosity finally got the better of him. “Why were you already in the lobby?”

“Everyone is in–” Phichit coughed, clearing his wobbly throat as he pulled back to look Seung-gil in the eye. “We were all hanging out in the hotel bar.”

“Oh,” he muttered, eyes scanning Phichit’s face and fingers playing idly with his stray hairs. “Do you want to go back?”

“ _No_ , I just want to stand here. With you. Possibly forever.”

He could hear the amusement in Seung-gil’s voice when he responded, “You’d miss the Final.”

“That’s fine, I don’t care.”

“…”

“Okay that’s a lie, but the sentiment is still meaningful.”

Seung-gil chuckled, and Phichit could actually _feel it_ under his hands, pressed up to his chest. It made him feel warm, and he ducked his head when he couldn’t hold back his ecstatic grin.

With a guiding hand, Seung-gil gently tipped his chin back up, presumably to get his attention again (please, as if he’d ever lost it). “We shouldn’t just stand here. Someone entering the hotel might run into us. And you dropped your phone earlier.”

Phichit glanced behind himself reluctantly, gripping Seung-gil’s shoulders. “Oh, thanks. Did you get a room?”

“They were all booked,” he sighed. “I figured I could just stay with you.”

His words set Phichit’s face _on fire_ , which made Seung-gil blush all the way to the collar of his shirt. If he was shirtless, how far down would that blush travel? Oh god, that thought _wasn’t helping_!”

“I mean, we don’t – it’s not like we have to do anything, you know, like… that… That’s not why I came, I swear.”

Phichit nodded, and for some reason couldn’t stop nodding. “I have to compete tomorrow. I can’t be…sore.”

Seung-gil’s face flushed impossibly darker, and Phichit wanted to kiss that blush _everywhere_.

“It’s – that’s okay, I can – is there a couch?”

“We can just – it’s a queen – there’s a queen bed.”

“Okay…”

“We can’t do everything,” he mumbled, voice soft and tinged with uncertainty. “But maybe we can do… something?”

Seung-gil’s eyes widened, lips pressed together as he mutely nodded.

“Good. Okay,” Phichit took a steadying breath, finally managing to stop nodding dumbly. “Let’s – we should – room?”

Another answering nod. It seemed as if Seung-gil’s brain had overheated. That was fine, as Phichit’s had fried the moment Seung-gil walked into the hotel.

He swiped up his phone as they passed it, silently thankful for his strong phone case. Holding hands, they passed by the archway leading into the hotel bar. Phichit could hear their friends loudly talking and laughing. Usually all he would want is to be in there, taking pictures and laughing at jokes and teasing Yuuri about his husband.

But the urge to go insert himself into the nearest social situation didn’t come. Instead, he stepped lightly and quickly with Seung-gil towards the elevator, avoided looking at the tables inside the bar area, and was thankful when they made it into the elevator undisturbed.

He glanced to the side, found Seung-gil already watching him, and grinned. “Is my make-up that bad now?”

Seung-gil smiled. “I can barely look at you.”

“Ah, I knew I should’ve gotten my tear ducts removed.”

“You’re obviously not devoted to your craft.”

When he squeezed Seung-gil’s hand, he gripped him back just as tightly.

Phichit giggled, pulling Seung-gil into his side. “So if we’re not having raunchy, triple-X sex tonight, what do you want to do?”

Seung-gil wrinkled his nose at the crudeness, and Phichit wanted to kiss it. “I don’t know, we can talk? Or maybe watch a movie? Or we can just sleep, you have a big day tomorrow.”

Phichit hummed, thinking of his options as the elevator opened on his floor – their floor. Aw, what a heartwarming thought.

“Since I have to compete tomorrow,” Phichit said, leading Seung-gil by the hand towards his hotel room. “Let’s just talk for a bit, then sleep.”

Seung-gil smiled down at the floor. “Sounds fine.”

“Fine? I’m looking for ‘sounds like the best night of my life.’”

“Sorry, that title is reserved for the night I asked you out.”

Phichit gasped, grabbing at his chest. “How can you just _say that_? Your sweetness is going to give me a heart attack!”

“Am I ‘killing you’?”

“Yes! Ugh, I can’t believe I dropped my _phone_ for you.”

They’d arrived at Phichit’s door, and he was rooting through his pockets for his keycard when Seung-gil chuckled and wrapped an arm around Phichit’s waist. “I should stop then. I don’t want you to die.”

“Don’t worry, I’m too beautiful to die,” Phichit countered weakly, eyes flicking between Seung-gil’s dark eyes and smirking lips. The keycard could wait.

“That’s true,” Seung-gil muttered distractedly, as if he only just realized how close their faces were.

“So what about that ‘something’ we talked about earlier?” Phichit teased, smirking and bringing a hand up to Seung-gil’s jaw to pull him closer, trying to underline and bold and capitalize his intentions. But Seung-gil just continued staring dumby at Phichit’s lips, like a timid, fragile animal about to be run over by a runaway semi-truck. He smiled, and pulled his idiotic boyfriend in the rest of the way.

Their lips met, and it felt as if a weight left Phichit’s chest. It was their first kiss, and it was chaste, over quickly, and utterly life-changing.

He stared up at Seung-gil with wide eyes, worried he’d over-stepped and gone too fast for his boyfriend’s fragile heart to compute. But while Seung-gil was blushing brightly, he was apparently done being a bystander, as he pulled Phichit back in by his _hair_ – when did his hand even get there? – and kissed him deeply. He sighed into the kiss, and the sound made Phichit’s knees weaken embarrassingly fast. Thank god there was an arm supporting his waist.

His thoughts were rushing so quickly that he couldn’t pin one down, forced to let himself get lost in the flood of emotions and sensations of enjoying his boyfriend’s lips against his own. They were deft and soft, and oh god, now their mouths were half open. Phichit had not been prepared for this when he’d woken up this morning.

Seung-gil’s teeth accidentally ran over Phichit’s lower lip, and he made an embarrassing squeak in response. Phichit pulled away and slapped a hand over his mouth. His face was hot and eyes wide with surprised, but at least he wasn’t the only one. Damn, Seung-gil looked _starved_.

“Did I mess up?” he asked, running his thumb over Phichit’s cheekbone.

“No, you – so so so good.”

“We should – your room–”

“Yes, we – yeah.”

Phichit pulled him back in for another kiss, this one devolving far faster than the previous. He slipped his tongue along Seung-gil’s lower lip and earned a choked off groan for his efforts. If he wasn’t so busy tonguing the life out of his boyfriend, he’d have laughed.

Seung-gil was the one to reign them back under control, slowing the kiss until they were just pressing their foreheads together. “You’re… very… a lot,” he said, voice low and scratchy and _doing things_ to Phichit’s heart.

“Mmm, you too,” he whispered.

“We shouldn’t do ‘something’ tonight. You have to – the competition is tomorrow.”

“Let’s – we’ll just talk?”

“Good plan.”

After a bit more fumbling, Phichit finally unearthed his room key. By the time the door had closed back behind them, he was already dying to touch Seung-gil, to feel his lips again, to get his hands down his – god, he needed to stop turning this into a raunchy romance novel.

“I need to get ready for bed,” he murmured, pressing a hand up to his warm cheek. “Wait for me?”

Seung-gil nodded, and he watched Phichit disappear into the bathroom.

He leaned against the counter and sighed, running his hands over his messy, mascara-stained face. His reflection revealed tear tracks and smudges, places where his foundation had rubbed off (probably onto Seung-gil’s shirt).

If Seung-gil could look at this face and genuinely think it’s beautiful, then he was in just as deep as Phichit was.

He removed what was left of his makeup, washed his face, showered, moisturized, and then realized his predicament. He cracked the bathroom door, steam billowing out into the cool room as he poked his head out.

“Hey Seung-gil?” His boyfriend perked up from his perch on the end of the bed, face going red as he probably realized Phichit was naked behind the bathroom door. “Could you, um, close your eyes a sec?”

“Sure,” he said, then closed _and_ covered his eyes with a pillow. What a sweetie.

Phichit grabbed his pajamas out of his suitcase, kissed the top of Seung-gil’s head as he passed him (he couldn’t resist), then retreated back into the bathroom. By the time he was ready to emerge, this time fully clothed, he felt his own blush resurge with a vengeance. Other than a few moments ago, Seung-gil had never seen him without his make-up on. This could be a mess.

He cautiously stepped out of the bathroom, T-shirt and loose sweatpants his only armor against the world. Seung-gil glanced up, nervously, blush still there and hands gripping the bed covers.

He stood abruptly, grabbing his own nightclothes as he walked up to the bathroom door. Phichit felt his back straighten, held his head a bit higher. Hopefully Seung-gil wouldn’t find his face disgusting, and would appreciate his confident posture.

“I need to shower too,” he muttered by way of explanation, avoiding Phichit’s gaze and closing the bathroom door behind himself.

That could’ve… gone better.

He tried not to take it personally as his shoulders hunched and he dragged his feet towards the bed. He plugged in his phone, set four alarms for himself, and flopped facedown, hoping for the sheets to swallow him up so he could avoid the man currently in his shower.

Seung-gil had just taken a long flight, and rode along on the emotional rollercoaster Phichit always insisted on bring them aboard. But he shouldn’t have to shoulder Phichit’s insecurities every second of the day. He’d seen Phichit’s flawed make-up earlier and still acted normal, so surely this behavior was unrelated. He probably hadn’t even noticed his lack of makeup, and was simply eager to clean off and fall asleep. That’s definitely what it was, and Phichit needed to stop irrationally worrying.

By the time his boyfriend emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam fully clothed, Phichit had worked himself up to spectacular new heights. He flinched as he felt the bed dip next to him, and buried his face further into his pillow at the sound of Seung-gil’s voice.

“So this is happening,” he started, low voice practically a shout in the quiet room.

Phichit only nodded, spine stiff and heart fluttering. He was being irrational, he knew that. But damn it, knowing that didn’t change the way he felt one bit.

“Phichit, are you tired?”

Again, he only nodded.

“Are you alright? It’s weird when you’re quiet.”

“Nerves,” he explained eloquently, turning his back on Seung-gil and slipping under the duvet.

He could practically feel Seung-gil’s gaze watching his every move. “About the competition?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that all?”

He was silent, pulled the covers tighter over himself.

“Was it something I – did I do something wrong?”

Phichit sat up lightning fast, reaching out to hold Seung-gil’s arm. “No, you didn’t! You’re amazing, don’t even think–”

“Oh,” Seung-gil breathed, surprised understanding dawning as he took in Phichit’s more natural appearance.

“I was – it’s embarrassing, is all,” he admitted, ducking his head down and away. “It’s stupid, I know.”

A hand came up to run over his cheekbone again, fingers tracing his jaw, thumb following his eyebrow and under his eye and down his nose.

“You look different,” Seung-gil murmured, leaning forward.

“Don’t make it weird,” Phichit complained, voice catching embarrassingly.

“I’m confused. Can I ask you some things?”

He nodded, bracing himself for the inevitable fall out. This was insurmountable, and Seung-gil was going to make awful comments about Phichit wearing a mask for the world, and he’d have to run away and move to Antarctica and live out the rest of his days as an ice inspector.

It was sad the way shame spirals tended to… spiral.

Instead of any of Phichit’s irrational nightmares coming to pass, Seung-gil’s eyes lit up as he asked, “How is it fair that you have so many beautiful faces?”

Utterly floored, Phichit felt his mouth open and close wordlessly, gaping like a particularly surprised fish.

“Do you moisturize? You’re so soft."

Phichit was never going to recover from this moment.

“I knew life was unfair, but this…” Seung-gil smiled, small and soft and wonderful and just for him. “Is the right word handsome? Or cute – adorable, maybe? What word did you use once? Ah yes, gorgeous!”

Phichit whined, throwing himself into his arms and clinging tightly. Seung-gil laughed, the sound gentle and amused and happy, and everything Phichit ever wanted from life. His arms were warm, strong, and safe, just like his presence.

Pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, Seung-gil shuffled them so they were laying down on the bed, Phichit still halfway on top of him. “You were nervous,” he stated more than asked, running fingers through Phichit’s hair and soothingly tracing the line of his spine.

Phichit nodded into his neck, clinging tighter around his waist. “I don’t know, it felt… important.”

“It is.”

“You just walked by me, and I thought that maybe you – I don’t know what I thought, actually. My head was an absolute shit storm.”

“Oh, I was,” Seung-gil cleared his throat. Pulling back slightly, Phichit watched that flush resurge with a vengeance. Avoiding his gaze and turning away slightly, Seung-gil muttered, “I had to deal with my own… ‘something.’”

Phichit giggled as his own face heated. “Oh, really?”

“I didn’t want you to… see, and get… uncomfortable.”

“Ahh, I see. You’re very considerate.”

“Thank you.”

Phichit leaned up for a long, sweet kiss. His fingers traced where Seung-gil’s jaw moved, and he moaned as he was pulled tighter against his boyfriend's chest. Phichit was immensely enjoying being above Seung-gil, pressing him down into the pillows and meeting no resistance, even when he deepened the kiss and elicited a groan for his efforts. Seung-gil was the one to pull back first, breath skating across Phichit’s lips and forehead pressed against his own.

“We should sleep,” he explained, eyes darting between Phichit’s and not over his uneven skin tone or scarce blemishes.

He nodded, pressed one last kiss to Seung-gil’s jaw, then settled in against Seung-gil’s side.

“Good night,” Phichit murmured, reigning in his slightly labored breathing and slipping a leg between Seung-gil’s. He responded with a good night and a huffed laugh, and nuzzled Phichit’s hair.

Phichit was undoubtedly the luckiest man on earth. He ignored the questioning texts from Yuuri sitting in his inbox, didn’t even feel the urge to digitally capture this tender moment in a picture for the entirety of Instagram to enjoy. Instead he listened to Seung-gil’s breathing deepen, heart beating steadily, until he was fast asleep under Phichit’s cheek.

They hadn’t known each other for long, but Seung-gil made him feel safe and cherished. He wished he could wake the man up and talk to him for hours, exchanging stories and ideas and laughter until he crossed every relationship hurdle in one go. He was nauseatingly excited for how their relationship would pan out, felt as if he was ready to face anything so long as Seung-gil was by his side along the way.

A stray thought had him laughing, and he had to muffle the sound with his hand so as not to wake his company. Grinning like a crazy idiot, Phichit pressed one last kiss onto Seung-gil’s cheek. He didn’t react at all, which was somehow the most adorable response of them all.

To think, this all started with an offensively bright pair of pink boxer briefs. In a way, he owed all of this to Seung-gil’s cousin.

That night, Phichit fell asleep cuddling the sappiest, most thoughtful robot-turned-man he’d ever known. Regardless of how the next two days turned out, he knew that this part of his life would be alright. Even if he didn’t make the podium, he’d still be celebrating.

(But he’d totally make the podium.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you!!!
> 
> (Entirely unrelated, if I followed up this fic with a first time E-rated one-shot, would anyone be interested in reading that?)


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